


Sink or Swim

by Swish42



Series: Shattered Soul Series [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Civil Unrest, Gen, Mermaid AU (undertale), Touring, Undertale Monsters in the Sea, Undertale Monsters on the Surface, child gaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swish42/pseuds/Swish42
Summary: A young world hopping WingDings finds himself dropped in an underwater kingdom with a bony fish tail instead of legs. But learning to swim proves the easier challenge when faced with telling his new caring guardians the truth of his mysterious appearance.





	1. Sinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next part in the series. You don’t have to read the first one to read or understand this one. Enjoy.

                                                                 

There is a huge difference between living a nightmare and experiencing one. Living through all the worst things in this life offers no escape, while a nightmare typically ends as soon as you wake. For little WingDings Gaster he is left in a nightmare only to wake to the real thing.

He never thought in his five year old mind that he’d ever have to go swimming in the middle of the night, but tonight he would. Instead of his dark bedroom, lit by his favorite planet nightlight, an expanse of heavy darkness spreads out before him. Splintered rays of light filter inconsistently through the endless blue, but seeing this small gleam of light lets WingDings know that he isn’t simply looking at the back of his eye lids.

Sprinkles of shimmering dust wafts slowly through the slivers of crystal light as the child holds his deformed hands close to his sternum. His throat feels tight and his chest heavy as the weight of what surrounds him sinks in. Instead of lying snug in his comfy bed surrounded by books with glow n’ the dark stars hanging above his head there is an ocean. A thick, deep ocean that feels far colder than a winter storm.

In alarm, red light pulses over WingDings bones, drawing his attention down to his bones.

It is alien to him.

Instead of two legs he has a long tail with ribbed bones angling out from it much like his ribs. Like the fish that live in the deepest crevices of the sea his bones glow an iridescent red and violet, moving along his body like a beating heart. The shreds of what remains of his pajamas waves like streamers from his body barely held together on his new form. His shaking hands move to his mouth, clutching his jaw and eyes as he screams in a short series of high notes and beeps without moving his jaw.

He can miraculously breathe underwater and despite needing breath to scream he doesn’t notice the significance of this crucial detail.

Normally he would wake up at this point in his nightmares, but instead when he opens his eyes nothing has changed. A horrifying dark briny sea watches him calmly as determination floods his tiny body. Despite his brash resolve tears of fear still bead to his eye sockets, floating away in the form of purple bubbles.

He’s startled from his fear when a low horn like sound hits his invisible eardrums and a golden light shines like a beacon from the water’s surface. The light fades in and out, on and off as it comes closer. Encouraged by the light, WingDings tries to swim towards it, but it is slow going since he’s never been in anything with water aside from a kiddy pool or a bath tub. In the end he uses his magic hands to drag himself to the surface.

When he’s nearly reached the surface a large dark shadow comes zooming straight for him. He has enough time to raise his arms and brace himself for the impact as he is snatched into a commercial fishing net. The water he now depends on to breath is squeezed out of his body as the fish of the net collide with him and he is hoisted from the water.

He emits a buzzing cry as he is brought to the surface and dumped into the holding bin on the deck of the fishing vessel. Even as the heavy pressure of the net is loosened, releasing him with the flopping fish he continues to cry, trying to speak but unable to when abundant oxygen overpowers him, suffocating him like he never thought it could.

There is a cry of alarm from the fishermen manning the vessel as they try to grab hold of him. With his red magic pulsing through him, WingDings tries to find his own way, not understanding what it is he actually needs or how to stop the pain in his ribs. He has the drive but no direction and quickly wears himself out, bruising and hurting himself in the process. Luckily, when he tires, this gives one man the chance to scoop him up and drop him into a holding chamber filled with sea water.

“Is he injured?” a monster asks from somewhere above him. WingDings barely understands the strange, the words muffled by the stream of magic rushing through him and his throbbing head from too much oxygen.

“It’s hard to tell,” a man answers. “Ah Damn, I think it’s just a kid.”

“The Empress will have our heads if she finds out,” a bird monster squawks.

“Hey we waz in the fishing territory, we’z done nothing wrong,” another sailor quickly spouts. “This kid’s probly jus lost.”

“Should we toss him back?” asks the first man. As the men and monsters grumble and argue among themselves, WingDings looses track of what they’re saying. Most of the words he doesn’t understand, but some of them he associates with the swear jar that sits on the counter in his families kitchen.

“Captain on deck!” someone hollers.

“And have him get snagged by another unsuspecting fishing boat, no,” a new, older voice, answers the bickering men. “Bring in the catch and check the fishy monster for injuries. We’ll drop him back into the sea once we’re clear of the fishing territory. Lenard you stay with the kid and try to figure out where he came from. The rest of you get the rest of the nets in. We have a full boat anyway, plenty to make this trip worth our while.”

Watching the flurry of shadows pass over him through the glare of the spot lights, one young man comes to kneel beside him. “Hey little guy I’m Lenard,” the man who might still be a teenager, offers him a big smile and waves down at him. He has dark skin, long brown hair pulled back, and is wearing a bright orange overall covering. “I’m afraid I don’t know that much about merfolk, but I do know basic first aid. I’m gunna take a look at yer stats kay?”

WingDings doesn’t sense any ill intent from the boy and nods his head as the young man collects a quick check. Carefully removing the strands of WingDings clothing, he accesses the child’s soul. What he finds causes a flash of concern to cross his dark eyes, but it is replaced with determination as he studies the information more closely. Pressing his lips together in a firm line, Lenard finally gives WingDings another smile. “I’ll be right back with some magic food okay? Normally we use it to keep everyone healthy and alert, but I think we can spare some for a brave kid like you.”

Unsure of how to answer, WingDings only nods and watches Lenard scuttle away across the deck, peeking over the rim of his little tub as much as he can while staying safely in the water. He watches the men and monsters collect the fish off the deck, going through it and tossing it in the hold. It isn’t long before Lenard returns with some food, helping restore the child’s energy reserves and heal his bruises.

Lenard stays with WingDings the entire night, but by morning everyone is below deck sleeping. Not wishing to risk the child’s safety or health they leave him above deck in the bright sunlight. Bored out of his mind, WingDings considers returning to the ocean, but thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to return to the great blue abyss if he can help it, but they did say they were going to put him back when they left the area meant for fishing.

Determination is a powerful asset, but he doesn’t want to be alone in the huge ocean!? Who knows what he’ll find down there. If this world is anything like the one back home that means more than seventy percent of it is water! He’ll get lost for sure! And he can’t sense a piece of his soul anywhere close by.

He thinks of his brothers and wonders if they’ll ground him when he gets back home even though it isn’t his fault he ended up in this strange place. Last time he traveled to another world it was because he went looking for trouble. This time he was simply snug in his bed enduring a bad dream about math making no sense. It is an impossible scenario which makes it all the more frightening.

Left to his own devices, WingDings tries to find a way to communicate with the sailors, signing hello with his magic hands to anyone who passes by close enough.

While the men find it entertaining only one of the monsters actually understands the greeting WingDings expresses, but he only understands some his phrases, knowing different hand signs for things than WingDings knows. His name is Samuel and he’s a feathery monster without the wings. With the captains permission the monster stays with WingDings to try and get more information from him. With Samuel and Lenard’s help the child manages to tell them that his name is WingDings and that he is indeed very lost. He also thanks them for helping him and not throwing him back into the water.

The fact that WingDings doesn’t want to be thrown back into the sea is perhaps the most confusing tidbit of information the sailors glean.

Once they learn that WingDings has no idea where his home is the crew becomes nervous, whispering that the Empress or some group called the WKD will have their jobs or worse when they find out about this accident. They inform the captain at once of their discovery who will be making the ultimate decision as to what they do with the mer-child.

“If we give him to the WKD they’ll just push him onto some family and hop him around until he gets lost in the system. They have good intentions, but the kid will only suffer for it. If the Empress finds out we fished up a mer-child she’ll blame the land folk for something we didn’t do and I don’t want any part of that political nightmare . . . We’ll drop him off with an old buddy of mine, he can help WingDings out.”

“When you say buddy, you talkin bout’ Aaron?” one the sailors asks.

“Sir!” Lenard protests with the others shouting similar objections. “Aaron is not suitable to take care of a little kid.”

“Have you no shame captain!” another says with a shiver.

“Aaron will flex the kid to death,” Samuel elaborates, flexing his feathering arm and earning a silent gurgling giggle from WingDings.

A short sailor with tight black curls lifts a brow and gives Samuel a dead pan glare. “I think that’s the least of the kid’s worries when stuck with someone like Aaron,” he informs him.

“Hey, Aaron has his quirks but he has a good soul,” the captain defends his old time friend.

“Does Aaron have any experience with kids?” Lenard asks honestly, calming the captain with his less judgmental question.

“. . .” inevitably the captain doesn’t have an adequate answer.

As they continue to discuss what to do with the child, WingDings listens unnoticed. He’s met Aaron the seahorses flexing monster before and doesn’t really have a problem with staying with him, but no one is asking for the fish child’s opinion or even looking at him. If they put him with someone he’s met before perhaps it won’t be so bad.

Aside from being put back in the water again.

“Are you suggesting we keep the mer-child?” the captain growls throwing a flat hand down at the baby bones. On cue WingDings makes his eye lights as large as he can and hides the lower portion of his face from view to become as cute as skeletally possible. Frisk taught him this move and they would be proud of the effective results.

Act: Disarm is very effective

A few of the sailor’s chorus together collectively saying ‘Awwww,’ and even the toughest burly sailors look about ready to melt at the sight.

The captain of all people is struck dumb by the adorable spell WingDings has unintentionally cast, but the gritty captain quickly shakes his head as if whipping the thought out of his mind, quicker than a fleeing fish. “No! We are not keeping him!” the captain barks. “We’d be begging for the Empress’s wrath if we did. I don’t think any of us here want to join her at the bottom of the sea.”

Everyone shakes their head and are silenced instantly. Whoever this Empress is, she must be a frightening individual since these burly men and monsters keep mentioning her with such a dread.

“It’s been a long time, but I can contact Shyren,” the captain muses, rubbing his chin with his callous hand, before mumbling. “Although rumor has it she’s thinking of going back on tour.”

“ ** **The****  Shyren?” a sailor gapes.

“You know her? But she’s famous,” the young Lenard says.

“And she’s taken in many foster children before and she’s retired, so she should have some free time on her hands . . . or fins,” the captain reasons. “Everyone, the Sea Gypsy crew is headed for Alabaster Cove. Samuel and Lenard take care of kid I’ve got to make a call.”

“Doesn’t that sound great WingDings, you’ll be staying with a singer!” Lenard tells him as he crouches down next to the child.

WingDings has seen Shyren before, but it was on the internet. He’s never had the pleasure of meeting the shy tone deaf singer in person.

“. . . Is there anyone the Captain doesn’t know?” Samuel wonders aloud, crossing his arms and watching the captain as he climbs the steps to the helm. He appears rather skeptical as to whether or not his supervisor can pull such a feat off. “Isn’t Shyren well, shy? She doesn’t go out of her way to mingle with people, even her own fans.”

“If captain say he knows her, then he knows her,” Lenard says confidently. He turns to WingDings and gives him a big comfortable smile. “We’ll reach the cove in a day or two with good weather.”

“Until then we’ll do our best to look out for ya,” Samuel doesn’t smile quiet as nicely as Lenard, but it’s just as sincere and brightens WingDings sprites.

It takes two days for the Sea Gypsy ship to reach Alabaster Cove and in that time WingDings manages to learn a little about the world he’s been dunked in. They have cell phones and tablet like devices, although a little bit larger and chunkier than the ones he’s familiar with. There are also a lot of men. WingDings isn’t sure if this is just because he’s on a ship or if it is because this world is mostly made up of the male species. Then again Shyren is a girl and the Empress must be female.

Do men live on land and ladies live in the sea?

When they reach the small port of Alabaster, the Sea Gypsy is forced to anchor out in deeper water, unable to bring the large ship any closer to land. This proves to be just fine since Shyren agrees to meets them at the ship. The trouble is finding a way to bring WingDings safely down to her without hurting him or his breathing too much oxygen and passing out. In the end they manage to wrap him in wet towels and use one of the lifeboat’s to lower him down into the sea.

Lenard holds onto the small child snugly, keeping the baby bones calm the entire way down. Everything is going perfect until they lower WingDings into the waters near a very shy Shyren. As soon as WingDings is in the sea he freaks out, scrambling from her and latching onto the side of the boat.

“Oh hey we’ll miss you too WingDings,” Lenard says oblivious to the childs fear and thinking WingDings is merely wishing to say goodbye. “But Shyren will be able to take care of you better than any of us can.”

Eyes wide, WingDings opens and closes his mouth, forced to lower his body when he remember he can’t breathe properly with his mouth out of the the thing he fears. How can he tell Lenard that saying goodbye isn’t the problem? The problem is being stuck in the large dark ocean having never swam a day in his entire life!

Granted it’s been a short life, but for a five year old just one year takes forever.

The captain gives a motion to the crew members up top and they crank the lifeboat back up with Lenard and the crew waving goodbye, completely unaware of any problem WingDings is having other than typical childish jitters. Shyren is forced to grab onto WingDings to keep him from being pulled up with the boat when he refuses to let go. She coos at him, trying to calm him as his boney tail lightly kicks her torso. When she grunts in mild pain WingDings stops and turns towards her, instantly feeling guilty for hurting her.

‘Sorry,’ he signs to her speaking in Comic Sans as well. His voice doesn’t sound quite the same as it does back home, more garbled and melodic.

Nothing.

She doesn’t say anything, just lowers her head with a tiny smile, her long squid like hair covering her face, with her head lightly bobbing to and fro happily. And then he realizes something completely mind boggling to him. She has a body . . . with arms! The Shyren he’s seen on T.V. and on the internet is a fish monster, she doesn’t have arms or hands or a long mermaid tail.

Not quite believing it, he reaches forward and pokes her scaly arm. A melodic giggle chimes past her lips and his eyes widen. It isn’t her talent agent making up her body and acting as pedestal from which she can perch herself. It’s ‘her’ body.

Apparently he isn’t the only one with a different body in this world, but at least Shyren has always been part fish, unlike himself.

All of these thoughts occupying his mind are enough to distract the five year old from his fear of the ocean.

Giggling at his cute response, Shyren bops him on the nasal cavity and waves to the sailors above them, lifting WingDings arm to get the dumbstruck child to wave as well. When they are finished saying goodbye to the kind sailors Shyren takes hold of WingDings hand and dips under the water.

Which is the very last thing WingDings wants to do.

“No!” WingDings screams, easily wrestling himself away from her gentle hold. He flaps and flips his tail and arms around uselessly, floundering near the surface and unable to get anywhere. His high pitched ring of a scream doesn’t affect Shyren and she simple comes up beside him and pats his head, trying to calm him.

It doesn’t work and WingDings continues to flail, his body pulsing with neon red lights that spark with determination and fear.

Worried that the child is going to give himself a seizure or hurt himself Shyren opens her mouth. She doesn’t shout, or yell, or scold. Instead, a soft soprano not echos from her throat, as mournful as it is enticing as she beings to sing. This is no ordinary song. The melodious notes are a sirens call and immediately WingDings falls under her magic spell. Her song gently wraps itself around his soul, slowing his movements as his limbs grow heavy.

Once he’s calm, Shyren moves towards him. She takes his hands and rubs her thumb carefully over his knuckle, avoiding the holes in his palms. Ending her magic spell she begins to sing a simple tune, humming calmly as WingDings floats in front of her.

When his eyes are no longer the size of pin pricks and are focused on her she signs to him. ‘You okay?’ she asks.

“I’ve never swam before,” WingDings confesses, jittering all over.

Shyren raises her head in surprise, revealing her sparkling black eyes as her hair floats away from her face. ‘Silly,’ she signs to him. ‘You can swim, you are part fish.’

Deflated, WingDings opens and closes his mouth only to hang his head in defeat. She wouldn’t understand or believe him if he did manage to explain himself correctly. “I’m terrible at it,” WingDings revises.

‘No you aren’t,’ she releases his hands and swims a meter away, sending WingDings into a momentary panic. When she notices his fear returning she hums a tune and beckons him to swim towards her, holding her arms out like you would to a baby who is learning to walk. WingDings is understandably a little insulted by the gesture, but it’s so welcoming he tries to swim towards her anyway.

And fails.

He flips his tail and reaches towards her with his arms, but he only spins around and buckles in on himself. The water, understandably, moves right through his bones, like air might and anything else for that matter.

‘Use your magic,’ she encourages him, her smile twitching as she realizes just how bad he really is at this.

Not understanding what she means by her advice WingDings summons his hands and uses those to propel himself forward. At such a strange sight, Shyren giggles waving her hands in front of herself to stop him. ‘Not like that,’ she signs slowly, showing that she is not angry or displeased with his strange method. ‘Fill your body with it.’

Scrunching his face, WingDings summons his magic which is naturally a purple color unlike his scarlet red that typically drives him. The crimson life is a gift meant for surviving, while the violet is innately his soul’s magic and what makes up his body. A skeleton depends on magic to move, since they don’t have muscles or tendons like most other creatures do. It is very much like learning to walk all over again as he pushes his magic through his alien tail, trying to familiarize himself with new bones and how to use them.

He is concentrating so hard he has shut his eyes and unknowingly sink like a thermos with several holes in it. A hand gently takes hold of his wrist, causing WingDings to open his eyes again, unaware that he is sinking. Gripping her hand he offers her a sheepish smile which she returns.

‘We’ll practice later,’ Shyren assures him. ‘Are you willing to come with me?’

Remembering in that moment Frisks advice and what his brother has taught him and looks at her Shyren’s soul. To his delight he sees that it is bright and pure.

While checking her soul WingDings also gets his first good look at what she is wearing which admittedly isn’t much. Around her hips and torso is wrapped a violet sash which has thin open slits in the back and sides to allow for her fins, spikes and gills. When he is satisfied that this is someone his brothers approve of he nods to her and says, “I will be happy to come with you.”

‘I’m glad,’ she says. ‘Hold onto my front, it will be faster.’ She holds him up to her chest and he gently wraps his arms around her neck, reminding him of how he traveled with Grillby the last time he came to another world. When he is secure she zips through the water , her coiling tail slapping the water like a snake sliding in the sand, gliding forward with elegant ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back and thanks for reading the next story in this rather ambitious series that I finally had the courage to post. For this world we’re looking at a underwater mermaid type civilization and . . . honestly I didn’t have any particular AU in mind while writing this, although there are a lot of good worlds out there. The art for OceanTale by Forte is amazing but I didn’t want to simply do a retelling of undertale that was set underwater and wanted to do something different.
> 
> If you haven’t read ‘First Steps’ that’s fine. You don’t have to read it since I touch on most of the important things from that first installment in this story, but the first story is also very short so it wouldn’t take much of your time. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy.


	2. Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can’t have Shyren without her trusted side kick.

When they reach a small town built into the underwater cliffs Shyren slides WingDings off her body and gently clasps his hand. They are in much deeper waters now, but still shallow enough where sand sifts through the cracks of the sea floor and rocky paths. The town is lit with magic lamps, hung in ornate cages of thin woven iron and decorated with glass beads. It fascinates WingDings the amount of colored glass there is, he has never been to a place so exotic before.

As they swim through the narrow streets, Shyren doesn’t speak, nodding to those who greet her but otherwise moving on her way. One mermaid recognizes the famed singer and insists she stops as she darts into her home. The kind mermaid returns swiftly with a gift for the ‘young guppy’ traveling with Shyren, bestowing WingDings with a poncho to cover himself. He is sure to thank the fish woman as Shyren offers to pay for it. The mermaid shakes her hand at them, insisting that it is her pleasure and allows them to go quickly on their way.

Are all mermaids this nice or is it only because he’s traveling with someone famous?

WingDings doesn’t know where they are headed, since she hasn’t told him, but they are headed towards one of the largest structures in the center of the town. The building, if that’s what it is, looks like a giant peach colored Auger seashell, spiraling upward towards the surface with a glowing blue light at the very tippy top.

When they reach the structures base they are met with a line of round kiosks, but only two have mer creatures working them. Shyren moves up to one of the workers and pays the monster two coin pieces from her sash. As they step inside WingDings eyes roam upward, lost in the spiraling shape stretching up above him like an inverted ice cream cone. The color is a creamy white, shining with polished splendor and reminding the child of a cathedral. They swim upward to a short raised platform that has four short metal columns positioned around it. Unlike everything else WingDings has seen they actually appear mechanical in design with glowing blue lights winking at him.

‘Don’t be scared,’ Shyren tells him as a worker motions for them to stand on the dais before swimming to one of the columns and pressing a button.

In the blink of an eye there is a flash of light and WingDings grips Shyren’s hand a little tighter. His soul quakes and hurts a little, but when the light fades the pain is gone and WingDings opens his eyes to find himself floating in the same place he was before only this time there are a lot more fish monsters and strange dais’s with blue blinking lights in the room.

“Did we just teleport?” WingDings asks Shyren.

‘. . . yes,’ she knocks her hand verifying that he is correct.

“Wow,” WingDings looks at the magical device with new admiration. He’s been able to see short cuts and teleport short distances since he was about four years old, but he isn’t as talented at it as his older brother. This is the first time he’s seen a machine that can teleport people. “So instead of cars you have this machine.”

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right,’ Shyren laughs, little bubbles tickling from her mouth.

Swimming down from the teleportation platform they are met by another monster who has his arms folded over his scaly chest in a show of heavy disappointment. If he had a leg he’d most likely be tapping it.

“Shyren you have a concert to prepare for,” he tells the singer, huffing and squinting his beady eyes at her. His scales are a bright azure color and his tail is more squid like then fish, but by far the most distinct thing about him are his thick lips.

Sheepishly, Shyren lowers her head and rubs the back of her neck with her free hand.

Sighing heavily with bubbles popping from his mouth, this mysterious fish monster shakes his head and turns to WingDings. His judgmental eyes stare long and hard at WingDings making the child incredibly uncomfortable.

Right when the child is convinced that this moody fish is going to make Shyren get rid of him, he speaks up again. “Well, what’s done is done,” he says, stretching his body straighter and offering a finny hand to WingDings. “I’m Tenga, Shyren’s agent and devoted employee. Who are you young Skeleton?”

“WingDings Gaster, sir,” WingDings gives the male his hand which he shakes politely if not a little awkwardly.

“A Gaster you say,” Tenga almost sounds surprised. “I didn’t think that old coot had any offspring.” The strict fish turns and motions for them to follow him. He takes them out of the transportation shell structure and into a much larger city. Instead of being built into the crags of the sea this city is built in a colorful coral reef, where the buildings are made of living materials of every color and size. WingDings is an instant fan of the sea anemone building, with its large neon green tentacles swaying in the gentle currents.

“We are running a bit on a tight schedule Young WingDings Gaster, but while Miss Shyren prepares for the evening’s performance I’ll see about getting you reconnected with your closest relatives,” Tenga continues as WingDings becomes lost in the amazing monsters and structures surrounding him.

Beside him Shyren hums in delight at his reaction to the city, finding his wonder adorable and uplifting. As they travel they are stopped a few times by fans and curious passerby, but Tenga is very efficient in keeping the meetings brief so they can continue on their way. It takes a long time and WingDings is starting to feel a little worn out with trying to swim when they reach a theater made entirely of brain coral.

They are met by the theater staff who escort Miss Shyren and WingDings to a dressing room where they can doll Shyren up and where she can practice undisturbed. WingDings sits quietly on a soft sea sponge not really knowing what to do since Shyren appears to be quite busy. Noticing his withdrawn behavior and understanding it well Shyren asks the workers for some food, clothes and toys for the child to help occupy his time.

The platter of food they give him is enough to make WingDings lose his appetite. The dish is made up of slugs, sponges, clams, shrimp and some grey unidentifiable substance. Growing a little green WingDings accepts the platter and tries to figure out which item looks the least unpleasant. At least it isn’t water soup, not that such a thing could possibly exist while underwater. Maybe eating this will make him miss water soup.

Can’t have water soup in water though.

Picking up one of the sponges with his claw like finger bones, WingDings opens his mouth and swallows hard. A shiver races down his spine all the way into the bristled base of his bony tail fin. It isn’t horrid, but the delicacy comes pretty close. His hunger is the only thing that keeps him eating the bits of food.

Soon after he is finished eating what he can a flame haired mermaid comes in with clothes in her arms. She looks to be mostly human aside from her fin like ears and long yellow fish tail. Introducing herself as Miss Shore, she proceeds to show him what she has. Because of the tiny spines on his back they rule out most of the long tunics and end up putting him in a ribbon of clothe that crisscross over his hips and upon WingDings insistence a cloth top of similar design that ties at his neck and the bottom of his ribs is also provided.

When he is properly clothed Miss Shore leaves him with a strange looking ball to play with. She apologizes that it is the only thing she could obtain on such short notice, but WingDings graciously accepts, insisting it is all he’ll need. The balls design truly is interesting to him. It is made of soft wire with a magic light glowing in the center. Because of the wire framework and magic the ball moves much faster through the water than a normal ball would be capable of.

Eventually it’s time for Miss Shyren to perform and he is allowed to watch in one of the box seats despite his not having a guardian at such a young age. Mister Tenga acts as his guardian, sitting beside him while relaying messages to the stage crew with the help of small guppy like monsters. WingDings finds it a little odd that no one really asks why Miss Shyren has such a strange mer-child in her care, accepting it easily and being very kind to him.

“Be on your best behavior Young WingDings, this is a big night for Miss Shyren coming out of retirement,” Tenga tells the child as the lights go dim. “Why she dared collect you herself I’ll never know.” The complaint is a little harsh and hurts but it also confuses WingDings since the Agent is also giving him a creamy magic treat on a stick as he tells him this.

Some people speak mean but are secretly kind.

As he munches on his treat, Shyren begins her show, singing beautifully with a full orchestra beneath her tail. WingDings tries to look for Napstablook, Mettaton, and Burgerpants, but doesn’t see them anywhere. He finds it strange since in his world they all work together.

Is it because they aren’t fish monsters?

At some point after he’s finished his treat WingDings falls asleep, exhausted from the day’s events. He really tries his best to stay awake during the entire performance, but there is nothing he can do to fight it off. When Tenga notices that the child is asleep he has half a mind to wake the ungrateful thing, but instead brings WingDings closer and allows the little guppy to lay on his scales.

When WingDings wakes he finds himself wrapped in a net, quickly sending him into a panic. He doesn’t remember that he is underwater at first, but when he sees the bubbles float off his bones the memories come back. Gripping the net, WingDings shuts his eyes and calls for Shyren or Tenga.

It is Tenga who appears.

“It’s five in the morning, there is no reason for you to be making such noise so early,” Tenga states as he floats into the room.

WingDings isn’t much of a morning person and easily forgets his manners as he glares at the fish agent. “You would yell to if you woke up someplace you’d never been before,” WingDings retorts.

At first Tenga opens his mouth to offer a comeback, but instead only a bubble tickles past his lips. He nods his head. “You make a solid point,” he says. Swimming forward he helps WingDings out of the net, expecting the mer-skeleton to follow after him as soon as he is free. Instead WingDings sinks to the tile floor. He has mastered the art of sinking, but now he cannot remember how to float.

Sensing something wrong Tenga stops short and looks back at the sunken pile of bones. “Aren’t you coming?” he asks with a grunt, flopping a fin over his side as if it were a hand on his hip.

“I am,” WingDings pouts. If only his brothers knew what he had to put up with every time he went to a new world and he has been to very many. Digging his fingers into the tile, WingDings starts to crawl forward on the floor, flapping his tail back and forth clumsily.

Tenga’s lifted brow reveals just how impressed he is by the child’s pathetic display. “Are you ill boy?” he asks.

“No!” WingDings eyes burn bright red as he stubbornly pushes himself forward, rhythmic pulses of red lighting his bones. His cheek bones also blush a bright red with his embarrassment, but he pushes past it.

With a huff Tenga moves forward and reaches a fin down to pick the five year old up but WingDings is determined to get out of the room on his own and swats the grumpy fish monster’s fin away. “I’ll follow on my own,” he tells the fish agent and focuses his magic on moving his tail and making himself float.

“I’m not putting up with this childish nonsense,” Tenga declares and reaches down again, but is given quite the surprise when WingDings manages to make himself float. Unfortunately the tiny container of determination proves to be to much and WingDings ends up zooming up through the watter and smacking himself against the ceiling, rattling his back and skull.

“BzzzztT, ow ow ow,” WingDings rubs the back of his skull as he drifts down again, curling up on the ground. Hissing as the pain numbs away, WingDings waits just a bit before planting his fists on the ground and trying again. This time when he rockets towards the ceiling, Tenga is there to catch him.

“Don’t be ungrateful WingDings,” Tenga huffs and swims out of the guest chambers with WingDings under his fin.

“I am grateful,” WingDings tells him, sagging under the stiff monsters fin.

“That’s good, let’s get you some breakfast,” Tenga sets the child down in a shell like seat as he heads into the kitchen to prepare something to eat. The room has orange tinted glass for its round windows and a matching rounded ceiling pieced together with colorful tiles.

As he waits WingDings studies the beautiful designs and makes out pictures of sea life and music notes.

“Don’t waste any of it,” Tenga tells him as he sets a tray of food in front of WingDings.

Immediately WingDings calm smile becomes a squiggly line as he looks down at the raw seaweed and unidentifiable grey meat. Tenga plants his fins on his hip and waits expectantly as WingDings looks up at him and smiles sheepishly. Biting his lower lip WingDings picks up some of the seaweed and puts it in his mouth. He chews it as much as he dares before swallowing it down forcefully.

It tastes awful.

Nodding in approval Tenga turns away and returns to the kitchen to make himself a plate of food. When Tenga isn’t looking WingDings summons his magic hands and grabs at the seaweed and stuffs it behind the cushion he’s sitting against. With the seaweed hidden away, WingDings sets his sights on the gray mystery meat.

With a jab of his finger he checks the toughness of the meat, wondering if it really is edible. He would prefer not eating it, but he’s hungry. Cutting off a small piece, WingDings takes a bite, swallowing a second later. His face is squished up like a wrinkled raisin but the grey thing tastes much better than the seaweed. Deciding that it’s the better of two evils he quickly eats the grey stuff, scarfing it down as to avoid tasting most of it.

By the time Tenga returns to the other chair WingDings meal has disappeared. “You ate that fast,” the stiff fish states with a raised brow.

“Hungry I guess,” WingDings shrugs, smiling innocently.

“I see,” Tenga then gets up and sets his tray in WingDings lap. “I’ll make myself another plate.”

As Tenga swims off to do just that WingDings stares at the plate in horror, his cheeks turning a yellow green pigment as he looks at it. “Th-That’s all right sir,” WingDings halts him. “You don’t have to.”

“Are you rejecting my generosity?” Tenga asks pointedly. His beady eyes don’t blink, staring the child down.

WingDings lowers his head and starts eating, wishing for a second that he had some kind of laser magic so he can make the food evaporate. This time he is forced to eat all of it since Tenga is back much sooner and watching him the entire time. When all the food is gone, WingDings is understandably feeling a little ill.

“I’m impressed,” Tenga says and WingDings outright glares at the fish monster. This fish is trying to kill him. No doubt Tenga knows this stuff is disgusting and fed it to him just to torture him.

Tenga snuffs out some bubbles from his nasal holes and picks up their trays. “I’m taking you to the local Royal Guards Department today,” Tenga tells him. “Hopefully they can get your identity sorted so you can return to some relatives.”

“You want to get rid of me?” WingDings slouches back in the shell chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Miss Shyren has a busy schedule,” Tenga spins on WingDings, brows narrow in response to the child’s attitude. “She needs to focus on restarting her career. She’ll be taking her show to other cities after her run here. Traveling is no life for a child. You should be with your kin. A stable environment if one can be found.”

Again WingDings is fascinated that Tenga can sound considerate and insulting at the same time, but WingDings takes it for the wounding comment it is. Point is that Tenga doesn’t want him around.

“Shouldn’t Miss Shyren decide?” WingDings asks.

Before Tenga can answer Shyren hums softly to the two. WingDings head turns up to her and Tenga gives her a respectful nod before leaving to the kitchen with their dirty trays. ‘I have decided,’ she signs.

“You have?” WingDings says and when Shyren doesn’t respond instantly his head and shoulders sag. Shyren attempts to sign, but he isn’t looking at her forcing her to put a hand under his chin and direct his face upward.

‘I will take care of you as long as you are in mine to care for,’ she tells him. ‘But I want you to be with your closest of kin.’

“I don’t believe their is a living Gaster, but if there is the RGD will know,” Tenga reemerges, offering his chair to Shyren before handing her a tray of food. “If you are in fact a Gaster.” There goes the fish agents left brow again. It’s a wonder it doesn’t float off into the sea with how often he contorts his face like that.

“I am,” WingDings states with a snap of his tail.

“The RGD will answer that,” Tenga snuffs. “We’ll head out shortly, clean yourself in the bathroom and get ready to leave.”

“I . . .” WingDings almost says ‘I can’t,’ but in an instant Tenga has that judgmental glare set on him. Glaring right back, the child’s bones ignite with determination as he sets off towards the hall. He flails forward and ends up sinking to the floor.

When Tenga sighs heavily and comes forward to help, WingDings speedily crawls across the floor, refusing to be helped and flopping up and down all the way. It isn’t until he’s in the hall that he realizes that he doesn’t know which rounded doorway leads to the bathroom. More importantly though, how can you have a bathroom underwater? That doesn’t make any sense!

He has half a mind to go back in the main room and tell Tenga he’s crazy, but that would mean looking at his grumpy mean face again. So WingDings proceeds to poke his head through every door until he finds a smallish room that could be the bathroom? Or the laundry room.

“This is the laundry room,” Tenga tells him, unexpectedly floating directly behind him.

Startled and full of potent red magic WingDings shoots up and hits the top of the circular door frame with his head. It hurts bad, worse than when he hit the ceiling that morning. Holding his skull and rubbing it, WingDings scrunches into a ball as he steadily sinks, sniffling and trying not to cry.

Luckily, Tenga isn’t the only one floating nearby, so is Shyren. As the child floats down she scoops up the child before he touches the ground, cradling him in her arms and shooting Tenga a stern glance past her squid hair. She swims through the next door over and opens a mirrored cabinet built into the plaster wall. Removing a jar, she pops off the lid revealing a pink cream. Dipping her hand into the putty, she applies it to where he bumped his head before quickly wiping off her hand.

Two seconds later a cold burning sensation numbs his skull, taking the pain away. He reaches up to feel it, but Shyren takes a gentle hold of his hand to keep him from doing so. ‘Don’t touch,’ she tells him. Sitting him down on a counter she reaches underneath him into the cabinet to remove some brushes, some creams and a sponge. Not a sea sponge, but a real cleaning type sponge.

She squirts out some paste onto a tooth brush and hands it to him to use.

Caught in a slight daze, WingDings puts the brush in his mouth and moves it around without thinking. Shyren takes the sponge and puts some dough like cream on in, rubbing it against her arm to show him what it is and how to use it. When he’s done brushing his teeth he takes the sponge she offers him and follows her example while she rubs a jar of another concoction in her tentacle like hair.

‘We can do a more thorough job later,’ Shyren tells him after they’ve gone through the basic’s of ‘cleaning up’ in their culture. She takes his hands swimming backwards as he gets a feel for swimming the right way. When they enter the main living space WingDings is smiling, but it becomes forced when he see’s Tenga again.

Noticing his displeasure Shyren hums in contemplation before snapping her fingers. ‘If you’re good for Tenga he’ll take you out for a treat,’ she tells him.

“I will?” Tenga says snapping his body straight.

‘Yes,’ she hums, giggling at his uptight response.

“Very well,” Tenga nods his head before offering a fin to WingDings. “Come child let us be off.”

WingDings eyes the fin cautiously, a rare frown tipping his lips. Pressing his lips tight WingDings concentrates on his magic and flaps his tail steadily, depending on his perseverance rather than determination to get him high enough. When he nearly reaches Tenga he inevitably begins to sink but the fish monster catches his palm before he can flounder.

                                                                         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, Tenga is Agent and because I couldn’t think of a more original name than Agent, his name is a word scramble of said name. I’m so clever. Also had a special appearance by the famed Shore as a mermaid from ‘Ocean on Fire’ by TheNinjaMouse. It’s one of the best reader fic’s out there.
> 
> Since the chapters are going to be a bit longer in this story not every chapter will have a sketch. Sketches only happen if I have time and feel inspired. Finished drawings are an outright miracle when they happen. Hope you enjoy, thanks for reading.


	3. Unending Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five year old’s can ask a lot of questions.

After a quick goodbye, Tenga leads WingDings from the nice home down to the street where they wait for a taxi. Less than five minutes later a red and purple vehicle pulls up reminding WingDings of a flying saucer, without an alien inside. He was expecting something more like a submarine, but despite his misgivings he gladly takes Tenga’s offer to sit inside the strange vehicle. 

When they take a seat inside WingDings immediately leans forward and grins at the driver. “Hello,” he says. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing just fine,” the driver says. It is a starfish type monster with suction cup hands and hard orange skin. Just looking at it is tempting for the child who wants to know if the driver feels like any over starfish.

“Why does the taxi look like a space ship?” WingDings asks, reaching forward and touch the drivers shoulder.

At this the taxi man laughs, revving up the engine, unbothered by the boys curiosity. He turns towards Tenga, ignoring WingDings question. “Where to sir?”

“The RGD please,” Tenga answers.

WingDings pouts a little, wanting an answer to his question. Unfortunately he’s apparently just a stupid five year old acting cute. He pokes the starfish once before retreating.

“Right away sir,” the driver says focusing his eyes forward and steering the apparatus upward.

“Why didn’t we take a taxi yesterday?” WingDings asks Tenga.

“The theater wasn’t far,” Tenga replies. “And Miss Shyren sometimes gets motion sickness when traveling by taxi.”

WingDings nods his head, waiting for Tenga to finish before continuing with his questions. “Are you her father?”

“No, I’m her Talent Manager,” Tenga corrects in a clipped tone.

Understanding that Tenga doesn’t appreciate being on the receiving end of his questions WingDings continues to ask questions anyway, undeterred by Tenga’s stiff temperament. “Do you live with her?” he asks next.

“Sometimes, yes,” Tenga answers, glaring at the child.

“Do you love her?” WingDings asks, widening his eyes to appear innocent. Years of wanting cookies has taught him this deadly cute maneuver.

“No,” Tenga is unamused.

“How long have you been working with her?” WingDings continues undeterred.

“Thirty-Five years,” Tenga answers.

“How old are you?” WingDings is fascinated and pleased with his results.

“Old.”

“I’m five,” WingDings tells him proudly, hoping to encourage an actual number from the male if he reveals his own age. 

In mild surprise Tenga’s features loosen and he turns to face WingDings again. “. . . I thought you were much younger.”

Pressing his lips, WingDings eyes spark with magic at the fish monsters rudeness. The child is used to people saying that he acts older than his age, not younger! “How old are you?” WingDings tries again.

“I’m sixty-eight if you must know,” Tenga replies with a sigh.

Appeased by his response WingDings feels a smidge better, but is determined to prove to the fish that he isn’t some squirmy three year old. “Who is the Empress?” The sailors kept talking about her nonstop, but since coming under the sea he hasn’t heard much mention of her.

As if one day is a sufficient amount of time.

Lifting that judgmental brow, Tenga doesn’t immediately respond making WingDings feel uncomfortable. Did he say something wrong? “Empress Undyne has been ruling our kingdom for the last twenty years,” he answers.

To learn that Undyne is the empress astounds WingDings, but his fascination is cut short when the taxi driver speaks up.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know her name kid,” the driver says with a chuckle. “Thought that was one of the first things they taught in school.”

Eyes widening WingDings realizes he’s made some kind of mistake. He doesn’t fully understand that asking a question like that reveals that he is keeping secrets and it shows that he isn’t from around here, but he does know it makes his look stupid. With eye lights batting between Tenga and the driver, WingDings pushes himself deeper into the cushion and grips it firmly in his claws. When Tenga’s eyelids narrow at him the child anchors his sight on the bottom of the vehicle. To his delight there is a window on the floor so he can see what is passing beneath them.

And just like that WingDings gaze is riveted to the curious window.

Pink and white spires reach out beneath them, emulating seashells, but made of different material. This part of the city is made of more buildings rather than the artistic coral WingDings saw yesterday, giving the impression that the area is more business than entertainment. The alien structures are almost enough to distract WingDings from everything else until Tenga says his name.

“WingDings?” Tenga asks. 

The child doesn’t look up. He doesn’t want to say anything that might make his look stupid again. Give away that he isn’t really from around here. No one has ever told him not to say anything, Frisk nor his brothers have discourage him, but they also didn’t expect him to go to a world ever again. Frisk promised to find the pieces of his soul, so the five year old didn’t have to face the dangers.

Now what is he suppose to do?

“We’re here,” the driver lowers the swimming saucer vehicle towards a grey rounded building, reminding WingDings of a Rugby ball.

Despite his nervous discomfort the child looks up at the starfish and smiles for him. “Thank you for the ride sir,” WingDings tells the driver.

“My pleasure. You both have a good day,” the driver waves to them as they exit before taking off towards his next customer.

“WingDings, have you been lying to us about who you are?” Tenga asks when the taxi driver is far from sight. “You can’t expect me to find your family with false information.”

“That’s because you won’t find them,” WingDings answers calmly.

“Nonsense child,” Tenga snuffs, scratching his nasal holes when the bubbles tickle his nose. “You must have family aside from W.D. Gaster. Don’t you? And don’t lie to me or I won’t be able to help you.”

“I . . . did have family, but I don’t think they’re . . . here anymore?” WingDings tries to be honest, but he’s becoming anxious and like most children is tempted to lie just because he’s uncomfortable. Lying would be easier.

“What are their names?” Tenga asks, opening his fin out for WingDings to take.

WingDings takes the fin without question and clumsily swims along with Tenga towards the building. “I . . . don’t remember,” WingDings lies feeling quiet ashamed despite a lack of his brothers presence to reprimand him, but he feels so uncomfortable and he wants the feeling to go away.

“You don’t remember?” Tenga is astonished. He eyes the child with that harsh look of his before focusing on the path in front of them. “That would explain why you can’t remember your own Empresses name . . . and your inability to swim.”

To WingDings surprise the grumpy fish seems to buy the lie.

Quickly nodding his head, WingDings mentally promises that he’ll apologize later for being a bad deceitful skeleton. Papyrus is going to be so disappointed in him when he finds out . . . if he finds out. WingDings shakes his head trying to rid himself of the awful thought. He’s never had a moral dilemma like this before and he feels rotten for it.

Once inside the Royal Guard Department Tenga and WingDings don’t wait in a line and go right up to a glass counter where a merman is waiting. “Tenga Arent, I have an appointment,” Tenga says before the worker can even begin to ask his name.

The merman checks his computer device, a huge clunky thing made of bulky wires and some kind of plastic. It’s the first real plastic WingDings has seen since coming to stay under the sea.

“This way,” the merman swims over the counter and takes them through a large tube like hall above them and into a waiting area. No need for elevators if you can just swim up and down at will. The simple idea fascinates WingDings who lives a very gravity defined world.

“Guard Sarsha, will see you momentarily,” the worker tells them. He leaves the room allowing the unlikely pair to get comfortable on some square shaped rubber chairs.

“This place is very different from the theater,” WingDings observes, laying across the box shaped chair. It isn’t very comfortable, hard and wrapped in a clear plastic wrap. He rubs one of his claw like phalanges carefully against the plastic, making a delightful squeaky sound.

“Stop that,” Tenga grunts, picking up a magazine and sitting close by.

WingDings does as he is asked, remembering the treat he was promised if he is good. “Why is that paper not dis-disent-disintegrating,” WingDings smiles proudly when he manages to say the word nearly correctly.

“It isn’t paper,” Tenga explains dryly, but allows the child to feel the page he is reading.

“That is interesting,” WingDings smells it and rubs the page between his fingers. “How is it made?”

Huffing in annoyance WingDings fears that Tenga won’t answer, but the fish monster surprisingly does. He explains that it’s made of a type of seaweed that is harvested, ground up and pressed into thin sheets. It is then colored using either a method on dry land or a longer process using magic if produced under the sea.

Delighted by the answer, WingDings continues to pass the time asking Tenga question after question, from what things are made of to how the lights work. Since he has the excuse that he doesn’t remember his past he can ask Tenga anything without fear of being judged for it. True, Tenga still gives him that awful judgmental glare every now and again, but the fish monster still answers his questions.

“Hello, I’m Sarsha,” a squid like monster comes up to them and offers each of them one of her eight tendrils. “I’ll be helping you this morning, please come with me.” She takes them to her office a little further up the upper corridor and offers them each a seat on smaller but basically the same types of seats they endured in the waiting area.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” Tenga tells her respectfully.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get you in sooner after you filed the report yesterday, we’ve had our fins full,” Sarsha’s eyes smile since her actual mouth isn’t visible amongst the flowing trail of tentacles.

“It’s no trouble, Miss Shyren and young WingDings have hit it off well,” Tenga says waving a fin nonchalantly. “Did you manage to find his family?”

“Sadly the information you provided was insufficient, I was hoping to ask the child some more questions,” Sarsha replies.

“He revealed to me this morning that he doesn’t remember,” Tenga sighs.

“Oh my, is this true?” she turns to WingDings who nods once at her, not trusting himself to answer verbally, he’d probably fall back into speaking in WingDings for lying to this world’s equivalent of a police officer. His brother will be so mad at him.

“What’s the last thing you remember,” Sarsha asks kindly. Her smile is genuine enough to almost disarm WingDings and prompt him to blurt out that sailors fished him up in a net, but he stops himself remembering the seafarers genuine fear of the empress.

He doesn’t want them to get in trouble since they were his friends.

“Alabaster Cove,” WingDings answers.

Furrowing her brow, Sarsha taps a tentacle against her desk and turns to Tenga. “This is where Shyren found him correct?” she asks.

“That is correct,” Tenga answers.

“What was she doing in Alabaster Cove?”

There is a smile on WingDings face but he is otherwise frozen by the question. What is Tenga suppose to say? Will he tell the truth and put those poor sailors in jeopardy with the empress? WingDings isn’t sure if the land folks really have anything to fear from Undyne, but he doesn’t want to see any harm come to them.

The child doesn’t have to worry long when Tenga answers the monster. “She was scouting the area for a possible venue in the future,” he answers just as stiffly as his responses to WingDings numerous questions this morning. “She saw the child wandering and her heart went out to him.”

“Aw, she really is a kind soul,” Sarsha nods her bulbous head in understanding. “It’s been a while since she’s taken in a lost guppy. Does she need to have her foster care papers renewed?”

“All the papers are in order,” Tenga assures her.

“Excellent, now before you go I want to run some scans on WingDings hands and fins to see if we find a match,” Sarsha swims upward and motions for the two to follow her. She takes them to another room with a table and guides WingDings up to it. Step by step she talks WingDings through dabbing his boney hand in a gooey magical substance and planting it on a clear plastic sheet. Doing this with his hands and his bristled tail fin, she makes several copies and sets it aside to be processed later.

“We’ll receive the results after four days,” Sarsha tells them, cleaning up WingDings hands and fin. “Now WingDings if you are at all unhappy with where you are staying just give us a call.” One of the guard’s tentacles hands him a card with a name, address and eight digit number written on it. “We’ll protect you and help you if you need us.”

WingDings takes the card and thanks her, not fully understanding what it means. After that he is taken to the waiting area while Tenga and Sarsha return to her office to take care of some extra paperwork and legal hassles. While he waits WingDings occupies his time looking through the magazines and studying the pictures.

When Tenga returns they leave the RGD and get in another taxi. WingDings remains silent, choosing to watch the world from the window as it passes by in a rainbow of colors and alien forms. He also watches the monsters that are traveling the streets. Some are more fish like than others, but they are all monsters. The most human looking beings excluding himself are the mermaids and mermen.

They eventually stop in front of a corner shop with a large sign that says ‘Beckie’s Sweets’. Beaming with glee, WingDings eagerly takes Tenga’s fin as they swim inside the establishment. Without realizing it, WingDings is pulling Tenga forward so he can plaster his face against the rounded glass.

“Just one treat,” Tenga tells him in apparent boredom. “Don’t want to ruin your lunch.”

The childs excitement dies a little when the first thing he sees is a colorful skewer with raw crabs and fish heads pierced on it. Baring his teeth at the item in offence WingDings moves along the glass to find something more appetizing. He finds slugs, snails, starfish, and other sea life that WingDings finds disgusting, especially since he just met a starfish monster that very morning.

Finally at the end of counter he finds what looks to be like hard taffy, swirled in various colors and designs. “I want to try that please,” WingDings tells Tenga pointing to the colorful cubes.

“Very well,” Tenga nods and proceeds to motion to the attendant. “Which would you like to try?” Eye lights bouncing back and forth WingDings considers his options, wishing he had more information so he can make a smarter choice.

“I like sweet things,” WingDings tells the worker. “Can you pick out the sweetest ones?”

A little surprised by the request the worker tilts his head, repeating the question before smiling at the child. “I’ll do my best,” he chuckles and picks out a variety for him.

Bobbing up and down in excitement, WingDings waits and glances down at the little sign posted next to the colorful treats. It takes a while for him to unscramble the common letters but he reads ‘Guilty Pleasures, LumGums’. He has never heard of such a thing but he hopes it’s good.

After picking out something for himself Tenga hands WingDings his bag of treats. “Thank you,” he says to Tenga and the worker, before accepting the bag eagerly.

Transferring the bag to his free hand, WingDings latches onto Tenga’s fin as they move to sit on a bench outside the little shop. As they sit WingDings tail sways back and forth as he peers into the bag, contemplating which piece of candy he should enjoy first. Pressing his lips firmly, WingDings head leans further and further as he thinks until it’s completely covering the mouth of the bag.

This is a very difficult decision. After all the horrible food he’s eaten the last two days he really wants to savor this treat.

A snort wakes WingDings from his serious deliberation and he snaps his head up at Tenga. What he sees is enough to make WingDings question if the person beside him is still Tenga. The monster is smiling genuinely at him.

Rather than pretend that he isn’t smiling, Tenga doesn’t hide it and merely winks at WingDings before chewing on his own purchased treat.

A bashful smile caresses WingDings lips in response. He doesn’t know what has happened, but he feels a little more comfortable sitting beside the older monster. Closing his eyes WingDings moves his hand around in the bag and picks a flavor at random. The one he pulls out looks like a green and blue marble with speckles of pink glistening on its surface.

Carefully, WingDings nibbles on the corner, grinding his teeth against the hard candy to get a taste for it before swallowing. As soon as he swallows his eyes ignite in a blaze of magic as he happily enjoys the rest. It tastes like cotton candy only in a tough gummy form. Swaying from side to side WingDings enjoys another piece when his attention is grabbed by a large group of monsters swimming somewhere above them.

Looking up, WingDings plops another piece of LumGum in his mouth as he watches a cluster of sea monsters shout and chant above him. They are holding signs in their hands with words WingDings cannot see clearly. Doesn’t help that he’s a terrible reader in his opinion, excelling in math and science.

“Who are they?” WingDings asks Tenga, unable to hear what the marchers are chanting.

“They’re protesters,” Tenga answers calmly.

“What are they protesting?”

The fish monster looks up and watches the protesters a moment, lost in thought before turning his attention back on his raw fish stick delicacy. “Ask me about it later,” Tenga replies softly. “Eat your LumGum’s.”

After having all of his questions honestly answered so far from Tenga this is not the response WingDings is expecting. Watching the fish thoughtfully a moment, WingDings looks up at the protesters and asks. “Why later?”

Tenga doesn’t answers, which is enough to encourage the child to remain silent.

When they return home, Shyren is lounging on a cushion with glasses perched on the ridge of her narrow nose. She is looking over some sheet music, penciling in notes to herself as she works on a new song for a future performance. ‘Welcome back, were you good?’ she flips her hands elegantly at him, letting her notebook and pencil float in front of her.

In answer, WingDings lifts his bag showing her his wonderful treat. ‘Would you like a piece?’ he signs to her. ‘Tenga bought me twelve pieces.’

‘How sweet,’ Shyren giggles accepting the little gift from him graciously.

‘I think he’s more sour then sweet,’ WingDings jests, thinking himself very clever.

At first Shyren doesn’t respond, trying to figure out what he means, but when she does she giggles enough for several bubbles to flow from her mouth and gills. ‘I was talking about you, but Tenga can be sweet when he wants to be,’ she informs him.

‘If you say so,’ WingDings smiles.

‘Are you hungry, I made us all some lunch,’ Shyren sets her things down and makes her way towards the kitchen.

WingDings hesitates, considering simply lying and saying he’s full but Tenga knows he only ate five pieces of his LumGum’s. “Okay,” WingDings does his best to swim over to one of the chairs and makes a valiant effort before floating too high up and getting stuck on the ornate ceiling. Now that he is up here he realizes just how far away it is from the ground.

He doesn’t like that very much.

“The RGD hasn’t changed much Shyren,” Tenga tells her with a disapproving grunt. “They handed him a card with their number expecting he’d know how to use it. How many children get pushed through this system and lost to horrible families on that reason alone, not to mention allowing me to take the child without so much as a ‘are the papers filed correctly’? It’s appalling!”

Since WingDings is stuck on the ceiling he can’t see what Shyren signs back to her surprisingly heartfelt agent. Hearing Tenga rant about the Royal Guard surprises WingDings since the monster has been so cold and emotionless from what he’s observed, but slowly he’s seeing other sides of him. First with the questions, then the candy, and now this.

“Yes, I realize you’re name helped move things along, but that shouldn’t make a difference with a child’s safety,” Tenga continues to rant. “Your intentions are pure, but not all well known actors and artists are so honest and kind.”

When Shyren returns she is blushing beneath her long tentacle hair, giggling musically. As she nears the seashell chairs she is caught off guard when she doesn’t see WingDings waiting and spins around, clutching the tray nervously. “WingDings,” she says with her voice, singing his name so softly it sounds like the chime of a music box.

WingDings is so surprised to hear her say his name out loud, he doesn’t answer, looking down at her in wonder.

“Having trouble again I see,” Tenga snuffs as he looks up at WingDings. “I expect you to practice swimming for the remainder of the day.”

“Yes sir,” WingDings says, pressing his lips and glaring. He concentrates and manages to sink to the floor where Shyren scoops him up and sets him on the chair. She puts the tray on his lap revealing a smorgasbord of things he doesn’t recognize. Forcing a smile, WingDings eats what Shyren has made, sneaking pieces of it behind his cushion when they aren’t looking.

When he’s had as much as he can stand, WingDings works on swimming while Shyren does some chores around the house and Tenga leaves on business. While Shyren works on her laundry and packing things up in the house she jots down ideas for songs, sometimes singing out loud or plucking out a tune on a harpsichord in the corner of the main living space.

The atmosphere is relaxed, but it isn’t long before the five year old becomes bored with all the different ways he can fail at swimming and sits down at the harpsichord, tentatively plucking at the keys. The harpsichord isn’t quite the same as a piano but it doesn’t take him long to figure out the pattern to the sounds, finding a tune through trial and error by listening to which notes sound good together and which ones clash. He is so focused on the task he doesn’t notice Shyren floating at the entry way, watching him from around the corner with a soft smile on her lips.

When he plunks out something like a song, Shyren adds her voice to the notes, causing WingDings to snap upright and slap his hands onto the sponge like bench he’s sitting on. Giggling at him Shyren swims up and moves onto the bench, setting him on her lap. Carefully taking his hands, she places them over her own and begins to play. At first WingDings is confused, but it isn’t long before he is smiling and watching her fingers attentively, reminded of how Undyne does the same thing with him when he visits her home.

After an hour of sitting and playing, WingDings is able to pluck out the simple melody she is playing with one hand, memorizing the pattern and sound. If he ever gets a part wrong his eyes flash red and he starts over from the beginning, working at it till he gets it right. Beneath him Shyren patiently watches the child, enjoying the moment and relaxing in it. 

Back home Undyne takes charge when he tries playing the piano, but Shyren gives him the opportunity to actually work through the song without interruption.

As WingDings plays the simple tune, Tenga arrives, but the agent doesn’t stop them instead moving into the kitchen to prepare another meal. It isn’t until dinner is ready that WingDings and Shyren stop playing the harpsichord, forced to eat quickly in order to make it to the theater on time.

WingDings is again treated to box office seats with Tenga, who sneaks him a few ‘LumGums’ during the performance. During the course of the day WingDings forgets to ask Tenga about the protesters, but as they leave the theater late that night he sees some of them with signs, raising them high. Since he’s half asleep he is unable to read their signs, but he can hear their words clearly enough.

“Stop the prejudice,” one mermaid says in a voice just loud enough to be heard.

“Support land and water relations,” another says.

“Show Mercy.”

“Hate is not the answer.”

And so on and so forth.

Staring at them a moment, he is jerked awake when Tenga continues to tug him along, swimming for home. They pass through the crowds easily since Shyren isn’t with them, but WingDings continues to stare back blankly. When they arrive at Shyren’s home, he brushes his teeth and changes into a loose fitting tunic with Tenga’s help, before being slung into the net.

“Tenga?” WingDings quiet voice asks just before the agent can leave the room.

Grunting and releasing a trail of bubbles, Tenga turns to face the child. “What is it?” he says with a clipped tone.

Since he’s feeling extremely tired, Tenga’s brisk attitude actually works at dissuading the child from asking yet another question. “I’ll ask tomorrow,” he chooses to say.

Tenga hums softly and returns fully into the room. “I never answered your question earlier about the protesters,” he says straight to the point.

WingDings is amazed that Tenga is able to read his mind so easily and nods slowly at the older fish monster.

“You see WingDings, Empress Undyne hates those on land, making relations with monster and humans on land strained and hostile,” Tenga explains, his voice no longer gruff, but calm and soft. “Those protesters want to change that and are doing what they can to let others know that hating those who live on land is wrong.”

As he listens WingDings repeats the words over in his mind, trying to understand just what Tenga is telling him since the fish has a habit of using big words. In his home there is racism and prejudice, but at such a young age he isn’t all that aware of it, sheltered from such things by his family. It also helps that he lives in a very diverse community, with a monster school that is tolerant and encouraging multiculturalism. This makes it all the more confusing to learn that there is such a hateful divide between land and sea.

“Why does Undyne hate those on land so much?” he asks.

“Empress Undyne,” Tenga corrects the child.

“Empress Undyne,” the child repeats.

“Because of what they did to her parents and the one who raised her.”

“Who raised her?”

“Your lost relative, the Royal Adviser and Regent W.D. Gaster.”

At this reveal, WingDings eye lights enlarge and glow in astonishment. In this world he is related to royalty? That sounds like a big deal . . . and just a little scary. “Wow,” he says, looking down thoughtfully.

“Is that all your questions for today?” Tenga asks.

“Yes, that’s all, thank you Mister Arent,” WingDings responds respectfully.

“You are quite welcome WingDings, sleep well,” and Tenga leaves the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know I’m lazy. I just replaced the letter ‘g’ with an ‘r’ and made Tenga’s last name Arent, because that’s what writers do on a small creative budget. Other than that, I enjoy the world building and development of WingDings and Tenga’s relationship in this chapter.
> 
> Since there is no picture this time you get a longer chapter, thanks for reading.


	4. Sinking Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daily life and a big reveal?

The following morning when WingDings wakes he crawls to the kitchen and into his chair. Tenga and Shyren are already awake, the former of which is preparing WingDings meal. Once again WingDings has to think of creative ways to get rid of the disgusting bits of food, eating only enough to satisfy his hunger. After that Shyren brings WingDings into the washroom and helps him do a more thorough cleaning.

What surprises WingDings is that she doesn’t react like his skeleton family did to his strange red soul. She looks at it with mild curiosity and asks if he’s all right. When he assures her he’s always been this way she takes him at his word and continues on normally.

The remainder of the day is much like the last minus the trip to the RGD. WingDings spends the day following after Tenga or Shyren as they work on scheduling her upcoming tour and writing new material. Shyren also takes the time to play the harpsichord with him, which WingDings absolutely loves. That night they return to the theater, staying late before starting the same routine the following day.

This continues for the next four days and in this time WingDings becomes more comfortable with Tenga and Shyren, accepting them as his caretakers and aiming to please them. The only exception to this is the food they give him, which he cannot bring himself to eat all of unless they are watching him.

The only thing he eats without qualm is the ‘LumGum’s’ from ‘Beckie’s Sweets’ which he gets to visit again a few days later. While he sits with Tenga on the bench eating their treats, he notices the protesters again. He watches them silently, trying to read their signs and finding the whole display baffling. Their demonstration is going peacefully until two Royal Guards come up to the protesters and ask them to disband.

In response the protesters ask why, stating that they aren’t harming anyone or disrupting businesses. As soon as a guard begins to raise their voice Tenga takes WingDings hand and briskly swims around a corner and out of sight of the protesters, but not before WingDings sees the guards pull out their spears and shove the butt end at the protesters tails, shouting at them to disband.

Seeing and hearing this agitates WingDings and he can tell by Tenga’s tight grip and lowered gaze that it bothers him too. That night neither of them bring it up to Shyren and she performs flawlessly as always.

When they leave the theater though WingDings takes note that the protesters are nowhere in sight.

The next day Tenga makes a phone call with the house phone to the RGD. “I recall you telling me that it would take four business days to hear from you . . . well it’s been five,” Tenga says in an aggressive clipped tone to the secretary on the other end. “What have you found out?”

He’s silent, nodding his head and grabbing his fins across his midsection as he listens intently to the person on the other end. WingDings is glad he isn’t the recipient of Tenga’s cold glare and feels nervous despite the intensity not being directed at him.

Even before the mumbling on the other end of the phone stops Tenga cuts them off. “Be honest with me Miss Grahm, how long should we expect to have young WingDings in our care,” as soon as he receives his answer he slams down the receiver, glaring harshly at the device.

‘What happened?’ Shyren signs, encouraging WingDings out from his hiding place beside the harpsichord.

“Something and nothing,” Tenga growls. “I’m sorry WingDings, but apparently any records of you have been completely lost. Your file is being sent to the capital to be evaluated there which could take weeks to months . . . if they don’t manage to lose it again.”

“That’s okay, I didn’t think it would be easy,” WingDings answers honestly.

“Pessimistic fellow,” Tenga sighs, passing by him and patting his head kindly. “In the meantime you will be in our care.”

‘Is that okay with you?’ Shyren asks.

“MmmHmm,” WingDings nods his head and hugs her side, waving his tail to keep himself from sliding down to the floor.

“In the meantime . . .” Tenga returns with books under his fin and a stylus in his other fin.

“Since you are in our care for the foreseeable future you will learn basic arithmetic and language like any other child,” Tenga tells him as WingDings sits on the ground. The talent agent gives him a tray and a stack of books.

‘Have fun,’ Shyren tells him, rubbing his back before leaving the living space toward her own bedroom.

“I’ll be looking into hiring a tutor, but until then I’ll be assigning your work,” Tenga tells the child. “But first I will assess your academic level.”

WingDings nods his head and glances at the books, wondering if the thick volumes are a part of the test. He’s taken a few tests at school, but usually they are administered verbally by an adult, questions on a tablet, or a few simple math problems on a piece of paper.

“I want you to count for me, as high as you can,” Tenga reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out a pair of glasses, picking up a stylus and notebook to write in.

The question reminds WingDings of one of the first tests he ever took in Kindergarten and with a wide smile proceeds to count for Tenga. Starting at the number ‘one’ WingDings steadily counts upward, taking his time, but showing no signs of stopping. Around the time he gets to fifty, Tenga is realizing just how advanced the five year old is and cuts him off with a slice of his fin.

“How high can you count?” he asks instead.

“In one sitting I made it up to Twenty two thousand, five hundred sixty-seven,” WingDings says. “I’ve learned how to say numbers into the Quintillions.”

“Do you understand basic arithmetic,” Tenga asks next.

“I know basic alge-bra,” WingDings responds incorrectly, but Tenga doesn’t correct him. Tenga scribbles down a problem in his notebook before showing it to the child, who takes the stylus and book, working out a (2÷2) * 3 beneath what Tenga has written. It’s a simple third grade math problem, at least this is what it would be considered in his world.

When he hands it back, Tenga appears impressed and produces another problem. He writes 1/X + 1/3 = 1 and WingDings makes a face since fractions are still tricky for him. He works it out long ways and comes up with 1(3/2) then 2/3 as his final product for X. It takes him a little longer, but the answer is correct.

After that Tenga presses his thick lips and narrows his eyes at the page. Now it’s a challenge to come up with a math problem that he can still solve. He writes f(x)=-3+9x with the rule of f(-1). It’s a precalculus problem and not a difficult one, but it is enough to throw WingDings a bit when he sees the letter f. When he figures out that he needs to simply multiply the negative one with the nine the rest clicks easier. He prefers negative numbers over fractions anyway.

Handing the notebook back with a proud -12 written down, Tenga smiles at the boy and taps the end of the stylus against his lips. They continue like this for the next hour handing the notebook back and forth with problems to answer. During this process Tenga learns that while WingDings is great with numbers he is less confident with word problems and can barely read the words written on the page. When Tenga inadvertently figures out the child’s less than polished reading skills, his guardian writes a sentence with several mistakes.

He writes ‘frank has prettycup’ and hands the child the booklet. WingDings visibly wilts and takes the stylus clumsily. It takes him a very long time, writing out the word prettycup in WingDings to be sure of what the word actually is. When he gives back his answer it reads ‘frank has pretty cup.’. He remembers the period at the end of the sentence and separates ‘pretty’ from ‘cup’, but he doesn’t capitalize the first letter in the sentence, made clearer because it’s someone’s name. Luckily for WingDings the language of this world doesn’t require the word ‘a’ after the word ‘has’, but it would be considered a mistake back home.

Now it doesn’t help that his brain and soul are working to reconstruct a language he personally has never heard before, but the five year old has no idea that this is happening, making his worse subject in school all the harder for him. Luckily for him Tenga doesn’t reprimand the boy, simply pointing out his mistake and pulling out a children’s book for him to read while he collects some of the books. He’ll need to retrieve more appropriate algebra curriculum.

“Why do you have so many school books?” WingDings asks as he opens the children’s book to the first page.

“Miss Shyren has taken in many children over the years,” Tenga explains. “In that amount of time we’ve acquired quite the collection of academic curriculum.”

“Curr-ic-u-lum,” WingDings says the word experimentally. He finds he likes the large word and smiles before flipping the pages of his book in order to look at the pictures.

“Read it aloud WingDings,” the stoic fish tells him.

WingDings makes a face but does as he is asked and very slowly begins to read the book. Every once in a while he’ll ask Tenga for help pronouncing a word, but most of the time the agent makes him struggle through it till he gets it himself. It’s frustrating for the child, but with a little determination and perseverance WingDings endures it and the words actually stick.

After lunch WingDings is more than ready to spend time with Shyren as she plays the harpsichord, but Tenga first gives him a swimming exercise before he is allowed to spend time with the singer. As she plays, she encourages him to sing with her, but he’s too embarrassed and self conscious to do any more than hum. She doesn’t sing much, choosing to teach him chords so she can conserve her voice.

That night after the show, a tired WingDings leaves with Tenga like always, but they are stopped when a pushy octopus monster swims in front of them. “A moment of your time Mister Arent,” the octopus says quickly, with a notepad in his hand and pencil at the ready. “Allen Octen with the Seas Tribune. Can you shed any light on Miss Shyren’s opinion of the recent schism taking place in the Kingdom concerning land folk relations?”

“I am merely her talent manager, whatever her opinions may be are hers alone to make,” Tenga replies. “I suggest you set up an interview during business hours if you wish to hear more. I’d be more than willing to arrange a meeting, but I ask you call tomorrow as it is late and I have a little one to nestle into his net.”

The octopus turns a sour black eye onto WingDings, his beak like mouth pressing together firmly as he debates internally. In response, the child pushes closer to Tenga rubbing one eye and yawning discreetly.

It does the trick.

“Very well,” Allen agrees.

“Here is my business card,” Tenga hands him a small card from his vest pocket. “Please call after nine, we like to sleep in.”

After a more or less agreeable parting WingDings returns home and is put up in his net. “Will she really do an interview?” WingDings asks as the fish monster turns on his star and moon nightlight.

“Either way it will be good for publicity,” Tenga answers.

“But won’t it be dangerous?” WingDings asks recalling how the RGD treated the protesters yesterday.

“I’ll take care of her don’t worry,” Tenga assures the child, giving him a rare confident grin before leaving.

The following day, a minute after nine in the morning, the phone rings and Tenga is there to pick it up. Even though he is floating right next to it he doesn’t pick it up until after the third ring. Tenga sounds pleasant enough, especially compared to his phone call with the RGD secretary, but it is his strictly business voice that encourages a short conversation from Allen on the other end. They set up a home interview for the following week ensuring that Shyren will be more comfortable and they won’t have to arrange for a sitter for WingDings.

For the following couple of days WingDings continues his studies with Tenga and Shyren, growing more comfortable with each passing day. He even begins singing with the star as he gains more confidence. His voice isn’t pretty in his opinion, sounding more like an electronic device than a voice, but he can stay on key which is more than most his age can do.

Everything is going ‘swimmingly’ as WingDings fondly thinks of it until Shyren’s voice is heard calling his name from across the room. “WingDings?” it isn’t common to hear her speak, so when she does it gains the attention of everyone in the house.

Looking up from the children’s book he’s been attempting to read, WingDings eye lights shrink when he sees Shyren remove the cushion from his seashell seat revealing the messy gunk of food he’s refused to eat since arriving over a week ago. The rotting pieces of sea weed and other food drift like dry leaves from their disturbed resting place, slowly sinking along with the sicking feeling in WingDings figurative gut.

He’s been found out.

                                                                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some academic stuff in there, not that interesting, but it establishes WingDings learning level so I don’t have to do it again. Shorter chapter this week, but next weeks should be longer. Thanks for reading.
> 
> The picture isn’t very good quality, but most concept art isn't. I honestly imagine Tenga looking much more like how he appears in the game, but I also like the concept I came up with here. Still carries his stiff and serious personality.


	5. Food, Questions, and Pranks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which food is eaten, interviews ensue, and tutors are . . . scared off.

‘Have you not been eating?’ Shyren signs in concern, gummy hair rising away from her face as she bobs up and down. There is not a hint of anger on her face, only shock and concern.

“I . . . I do eat,” WingDings automatically answers, unaware that it is a half truth. He merely wants to avoid disappointing his kind guardian and avoid the uncomfortable feelings that comes with this discovery. He can’t even look at her and when his gaze catches the floating flakes of food he only feels worse.

“Is something the matter?” Tenga asks, sliding into the room and immediately taking note of the disgusting mess in the chair and floor.

As soon as Tenga opens his mouth to speak, WingDings bobs upward as his magic flares, but he manages to harness his control over it so he can dart around the strict fish and out of the room. In a classic fight or flight response, WingDings races through the house and dives into a mound of dirty laundry. He covers himself completely, even pulling his bony tail out of view.

Tenga is going to be so mad at him, WingDings can’t stand the feeling.

To WingDings confusion the adults don’t follow after him immediately, but he can hear Tenga raise his voice as he complains about the mess. Afraid of the consequences for what he’s done, WingDings covers the sides of his skull, shivering as he tries to ineffectively block out Tenga’s voice. He is holding his head so tightly there is a ringing in his skull and he doesn’t hear the gentle swish of Tenga and Shyren’s tails as they enter the small laundry room.

“WingDings,” Shyren sings, putting a gentle hand on top of the mound.

“Can you come out please,” Tenga asks in stifled control. “We just want to talk, I won’t get upset with you, but you will be cleaning the mess.”

Since WingDings doesn’t mind cleaning he doesn’t see this as a terrifying punishment and peeks out between the folds of clothing.

When she knows that the child can see her, Shyren signs with her hands. ‘Why are you not eating?’ she asks with concern. ‘Is something wrong?’

WingDings glances away and bites his lower lip. “I’m sorry,” he says instead.

“Can you tell us why you are wasting food?” Tenga asks and although his tone is gentle and calm the judgment is heavy on WingDings soul. The small skeleton fish glares at Tenga, shirking a bit into the pile.

“WingDings,” when Shyren says his name he looks at her at once. “Are you sick?”

“No,” he says shaking his head and lifting a bit, not wanting her to worry about him.

“Is this about missing your family?” Tenga asks wisely.

To his credit the baby bones thinks about his answer before answering. “No,” WingDings answers honestly. While it is true he misses his brothers, this isn’t the reason he refuses to eat all his food.

‘Then why are you stashing the food?’ Shyren reaches a hand forward and WingDings slowly reaches for it. She carefully pulls him out of the pile, never breaking eye contact with him and sets the child on her scaly lap.

“I don’t like how it tastes,” WingDings mumbles, blushing a soft red shade on his cheeks.

To the adults credit they manage not to comment, but Tenga’s lids drop and his frown dips just a tad lower. As soon as she recovers from hearing WingDings admission Shyren manages a weak smile. ‘Well what do you like to eat?’ she encourages him.

“Aside from LumGum’s,” Tenga tacks on.

“. . . I don’t know,” WingDings says blushing even harder. “Fish is good I guess, but . . . not like you.” He points to Tenga who very much looks like a large fish.

“Do not worry WingDings I wouldn’t consider you being a cannibal,” he says. “Eating fish is quite normal, even I eat them.”

“Really?” WingDings asks with his ever present intrigue returning.

“It’s like comparing a human to a cow,” Tenga replies. “Is there any particular kind of fish you enjoy?”

“Not raw fish,” WingDings makes a face recalling all of the raw fish he’s eaten since arriving and the Sushi he’s had with Alphys on occasion too.

“Must be the humanoid part of him,” Tenga muses thoughtfully.

‘Do you like steamed fish?’ Shyren asks.

“What’s that?” WingDings is confused since he is convince it is impossible to cook anything underwater.

“Perhaps a trip to the local buffet is in order,” Tenga suggests, lifting his brows and dropping his long fins behind his back. “After all we can’t simply feed him fish all the time, he needs a variety to keep a healthy diet.”

‘That is an excellent idea,’ Shyren grins, swinging her tail and uncoiling herself from the ground.

“But not before you clean your mess,” Tenga tells WingDings with a firm tilt of his head.

“Yes, sir,” WingDings agrees, smiling at the prospect of finding something edible to eat.

After cleaning the gooey muck stuck stubbornly to the cushions, the trio head out to a fancy buffet style restaurant. There are a variety of interesting food from fish, vegetation and fungi. Moreover, since this is a well to do place, they also have ‘land’ cuisine, but Tenga insists on staying clear of it since they wouldn’t be able to get such delicacy’s on a regular basis. Instead they take a little bit of several different kinds of food, filling the youngster’s plate till it’s nearly floating off the sides.

Seeing such a large amount of food is a little intimidating for WingDings, but he is also very hungry. Little by little he eats the food and it becomes apparent early on that he prefers the ‘steamed’ foods over the raw. There are a few raw foods he likes including shrimp, carrageen moss and lyngbya majuscula, otherwise called fireweed by the locals. He can tolerate some kelps when they are made into a noodle like consistency, but other than that he stays clear of most all kelp and sea weeds.

As they eat no one bothers them. Unlike when they go to the theater where fans of Shyren come up to her to say hi or request an autograph the customers here mind their own business. A few people will glance and stare discreetly, they’ll even whisper about the strange young skeleton sitting with them, but no one dares comes up to ask about it. For the first time WingDings feels a little uncomfortable sitting with Shyren and he doesn’t know why. Something about the discreet whispers directed at him, bothers him.

Sensing his unease Shyren asks him what’s wrong.

“I don’t know,” he answers with a shrug, ready to move on from something that he doesn’t know is even a problem.

“Did you eat too much?” Tenga asks almost kindly, but it’s still difficult for WingDings to tell.

“Yeah, but it’s not that,” WingDings says glancing back subtly at some of the snooping clientele close by. He wants to say something to them, but he doesn’t know what.

‘WingDings,’ Shyren signs. ‘I want you here and I’m glad you’re here.’

“She’s right,” Tenga tells WingDings. “You belong with us now. Through the good and the bad.”

WingDings actually likes the sound of that and he smiles more genuinely. Turning to the couple of fish monsters sitting behind him he grins mischievously. He know what he wants to say now and tells them point blank. “See I’m with them. Bet you’re jealous.”

The fish monster’s eyes widen in disbelief and Shyren hides her face in her scaly hands from sheer embarrassment. WingDings immediately feels a little bad and puts a hand on her side, looking up to Tenga and expecting to be reprimanded. Instead he sees the stiff fish doing his best to hold back a snicker, glowing a little red in his face at the effort.

“You don’t hold back,” Tenga chokes out, clearing his throat and managing to regain his composure.

“I’m sorry Miss Shyren,” WingDings says apologetically. He moves closer to her and attempts to look up past her bangs. “I’m very lucky you found me.”

To his surprise she reaches down and plants a kiss on the top of his head. ‘Thank you,’ she signs.

He doesn’t quite understand what she means by that since he’s the one who is most thankful, but he smiles up at her despite his confusion. Behind them the two nosy monsters take their leave, no longer willing to gossip in the presence of a gutsy five year old.

When everyone has their fill and WingDings caretakers are confident with the discovery of their charges diet preferences, they return home.

The following day Allen Octen arrives at the home for his scheduled interview. Tenga brings the male into the living room where Shyren is waiting with WingDings sitting close by trying to read a book. As Allen settles a comfortable distance away, Shyren still tightens her tail, gripping her hands in her lap as she smiles forcefully at the octopus monster.

Politely Mister Octen lifts a tentacle in a hand shake which Shyren accepts. This does little to release the tension in Shyren’s posture so WingDings flops closer to her, bringing his book with him.

“First off, it’s good to hear you singing again,” Allen Octen tells her. “Your voice has given the Kingdom something positive to be excited about.”

‘Thank you,’ Shyren signs, keeping with her policy to save her voice for singing.

“And I see you’ve recently taken in another child,” Allen nods towards WingDings. “It must be difficult restarting your career while taking care of a little one.”

“He’s a well mannered child,” Tenga answers for Shyren. The agent fish monster is doing his best to support his boss by floating at Allen’s shoulder.

Shyren agrees with her agent, signing the exact same thing with her hands.

“And I’m sure they’ve been taking good care of you, is that right?” Allen addresses the child in a higher pitched voice that annoys WingDings but he answers the question with his hands.

‘Yes Mister Octen,’ he signs. ‘They’ve been very kind.’

“Glad to hear it,” Allen says, making WingDings question the man’s intelligence. After all, you can’t hear hands speak. “Miss Shyren, you are well loved and respected in the kingdom for not only your songs, but you philanthropic endeavors. Which leads me to the question that has brought me here today.”

“The matter of the protests,” Tenga clarifies.

“Yes, Mister Arent,” Allen says. “I was hoping you could share your opinions on this issue, given your past relations with the surface.”

‘I’ve made many friends on land over the years,’ Shyren starts. ‘I’ve worked with talented artists, met such interesting people, and nothing will change that.’

“So you oppose the Empresses decision to cut all ties with the land,” Allen tries to clarify.

‘She is my Empress,’ Shyren says with brisk and clean cut hand motions. ‘I have followed her laws and have not communicated with those on land in five years. I will not actively oppose her or support any rebellion. To those protesting I will not condemn or hinder their endeavors. As for me, my songs will speak my mind.’ As she signs her one visible eye never leaves Tenga’s face, finding encouragement in his steadfast and stoic expression. Her motions are stern and quick, showing the weight of what the words mean to her.

“Spoken like a true artist,” Allen says all smiles as he adjusts his recorder.

Shyren nods stiffly, her hands pulled so tight her knuckles have turned white.

“Can you tell me about your touring plans and the venues you’ll be performing at?” Allen continues.

From here on Shyren visibly relaxes and goes on to answer Allen’s questions with graceful ease, her signing fluent and fast. WingDings looses interest around this time as well, focusing more on his book than the interview. When Allen Octen leaves Shyren hides away in her room and when WingDings tries to follow Tenga tells him to play on the harpsichord instead. With firm lips, WingDings debates a moment as to whether or not he’ll listen to Tenga’s advice. After a second or two he flounders to the harpsichord and plunks out a tune.

Not five minutes later Shyren emerges and sits beside WingDings on the sponge. She doesn’t play anything, but listens to him practice. As he tries to figure out the next part, pushing himself to do a good job, a smile crosses her lips, revealing her razor sharp teeth. Plucking him up, she places him on her lap and shows him how to play the rest.

The remainder of the day is a quiet one, giving Shyren the calm she needs before heading to the theater. Tenga is tense, avoiding talking much and watching Shyren attentively, but WingDings doesn’t know why. It isn’t until after the performance that Tenga relaxes and WingDings forgets about it.

For the next two days Tenga conducts interviews with possible tutors for WingDings while packing for the tour. WingDings helps where he can . . . with the packing, the tutors are another matter.

“Hi, my name is Miss Nezbit,” one peppy seaweed monster says when Tenga allows WingDings to sit in on one of the interviews. Unlike when she is speaking to Tenga she raises her voice, trying to sound nicer when introducing herself to WingDings. To WingDings it sound incredibly patronizing. “It’s nice to meet you WingDings.”

“Hello, Miss Nezbit,” WingDings offers his hand to her which she happily accepts.

With a pleasant grin WingDings pulls back his hand but not before leaving one of his magic hands behind in her slimy palm.

“Such a polite . . .” the female stops short and glances down to see a bone hand still clasped in her grasp. Immediately her green seaweed hair magically rises away from her face, as if she has an eclectic current flowing through her body.

Eyes wide and sensing a coming problem, Tenga lifts a hand in an attempt to explain or at least remove the magic hand, but the slight movement is just enough to cause the monster to dart up from her chair and scream shrilly.

Laughing heartily, WingDings does nothing to help her as Tenga turns to him, with a heavy scowl. “WingDings, remove your hand at once and . . .” he starts when Miss Nezbit suddenly flings the magic skeleton hand, hitting Tenga lightly in the shoulder with it. “Please Miss Nezbit, it’s a simple prank. . .”

Again his sentence remains incomplete as she speeds from the house faster than a mass of krill racing from a whales gullet.

Grinding his teeth, Tenga turns and glares at the child, not with anger, but deep annoyance. “WingDings are you trying to make my job harder?” he asks.

“She was talking funny,” WingDings says defensively, dismissing the extra appendage before it drifts to the floor.

“You should have simply asked her to stop,” Tenga says, fully expecting that the child could have thought of this on his own despite only being five years old.

“But then we’d still be talking to her,” WingDings whines.

“I do not need to include you in this process WingDings Gaster,” Tenga warns the boy. “Would you rather I chose someone without your impute.”

WingDings makes a face, showing that Tenga’s insight to the boy’s intelligence is not ill placed, even if the word impute isn’t a word he hears often.

“Will you treat this seriously or will you be happy with whatever choice I make,” Tenga asks him.

“I won’t prank them,” WingDings promises, looking down at the floor past the fibers of his tail fin.

“Unless I tell you to,” Tenga says.

“Huh!?” WingDings head flips up in surprise.

“That trick cuts down the interview time,” Tenga explains, his expression as neutral and stoic as always.

It takes WingDings a moment longer to comprehend how funny Tenga is being since his expression is so serious. “I think you might be funny Mister Arent,” WingDings says, speaking his observations aloud and without a filter.

“I’m not,” Tenga says in a tone of boredom, but he flashes a brief smile before going to the phone to see about changing the time of the next interview.

The next several interviews have varying results, some ending with WingDings shaking the prospective tutor’s hands genuinely while others end with the possible tutor making a hasty retreat when they seemingly remove the child’s hand from his arm.

                                                                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could have embellished this chapter more with daily life, but I’m satisfied with the scenes shown here. Slice of life isn’t my strength when writing, which makes this particular story good practice I guess.
> 
> Drew this picture in the car of all places and although it is simple and sketchy, I find it adorable. So I’m sharing it with you.


	6. Synchronicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title gives away the theme of this chapter.

On the third day of this process they agree on a clam monster named Shelly Clamer. She is odd, but is very knowledgeable and kind. It is decided that she will travel with them and be in charge of schooling WingDings and watching over him when Tenga and Shyren are unable to do so. 

The following day is moving day. Tenga would have preferred they heard back from the RGD in regards to WingDings heritage, but they only gain legal funding and official responsibility to WingDings well being. As far as WingDings is concerned this is great news and he is glad to be officially made a part of the singer and talent agents family unit. 

On the day they are moving to the next location, WingDings sticks by Shryen’s side as they take the Teleportation Transportation system to the next city. As he is transported by the magical machine, WingDings is given a quick panic when he remembers how uncomfortable and slightly painful the process is. He clutches Shyren’s hand so tight, her scales begin to turn as white as he is.

‘Is everything all right?’ she signs as soon as they arrive, but he doesn’t see her question since his eyes are clamped shut.

“WingDings open you eyes,” Tenga tells him, making the child realize they’ve arrived.

‘Are you feeling okay?’ Shyren asks again.

“It feels strange,” WingDings tells them honestly.

“Perhaps, teleportation conflicts with your soul,” Tenga replies, motioning for the two to follow. “It is not unheard of.”

‘Does it hurt?’ Shyren asks with one hand, careful to keep holding WingDings with her other hand since he still struggles to swim properly.

‘A little,’ he signs back.

Since he isn’t facing them, Tenga doesn’t see WingDings answer and doesn’t provide his insight, instead Shyren nods, a line of worry creasing the scales above her brows. Before she can ask more, they are stopped by Tenga who motions for them to get into a Taxi outside the Transportation building. WingDings eagerly gets in, dragging Shyren behind him.

As they enter, WingDings plasters his face against the bottom window shocked to see that there are miles and miles of streets beneath him. Unlike the last city, this one is built into a network of chasms, reaching deep into the ocean where the surface’s light cannot reach. Giggling, Shyren reaches down and pulls WingDings onto the cushion and buckles him in for the drive.

“I thought you didn’t like Taxi rides?” WingDings says as the Taxi dives into the darker water’s of the city.

“It’s too far to swim,” Tenga says and WingDings notes that Shyren almost immediately goes pale as the driver, a seahorse creature, maneuver through the city. “And we’re picking up Shelly from her home on the way.”

“She lives here?” WingDings is momentarily distracted from the guardians pale complexion.

“Convenient isn’t it,” Tenga agrees, reaching into Shyren’s back and handing the sickened singer some medication. “She’ll be staying with us at the hotel from here on out.”

“What is this place called?” WingDings asks next, leaning forward to look down the bottom window again.

“Stardust,” Tenga answers readily. “Because all the lights look like stardust in the darkness of the caverns and winding streets.”

“How long will we be staying here?” WingDings asks.

“A week,” he says. “We’ll be spending a week in most of the cities, staying in hotels or with fellow musician Shyren is acquainted with. Most days Shyren will be busy meeting fans and making public appearances. I need you to be on your best behavior and be good for Ms. Clamer.”

“I will,” WingDings promises easily before turning to Shyren. “Let me know if you don’t like someone Miss Shyren.” He beams up at her and she chuckles despite her evident struggle with motion sickness.

“Is the same offer not extended to me?” Tenga asks, squinting one of his angular eyes at the child.

“I guess so,” WingDings shrugs, slouching into the seat, but he smile a moment later at the fish. He’s slowly becoming familiar with the stiff monsters ways.

Tenga smiles, maybe. Still hard to tell really.

When the vehicle stops Tenga leaves the cab and goes to retrieve Shelly from an apartment complex.

“Are you sick?” WingDings asks Shyren. While the child has never been car sick or . . . water taxi sick before, he has been ill on several occasions for other reasons, namely his broken soul.

‘I’ll be fine when we get to the hotel,’ Shyren assures him. ‘I’ll have time to recover there before the show tonight.’

WingDings nods and watches as Shelly walks into the cab and takes a seat, while Tenga carries her bags to the trunk.

“Synchronicity,” Shelly greets them instead of offering a normal ‘hello’. “My neighbor’s daughter Susie is about your age WingDings.” When she is finished talking her clam shell head clasps shut, but this doesn’t deter the child from asking her a question.

“What does Synch. . . Syncha . . . Synch-ron-i-city mean?” WingDings struggles, but he manages to say the word as best he can.

“It mean when events appear related, but have no evident connection,” Shelly answers him, opening her shell once more. “Perhaps if you met Susie you could be good friends. It could be the very reason I became your tutor for all we know.”

“While your neighbor had nothing but good things to say about you, that is not the reason we hired you,” Tenga says as he comes to join them in the cab. “This ‘Susie’ has nothing to do with it.”

“If you say so Mister Arent,” Shelly smiles and closes her shell.

Knowing that she cannot possibly see with her shell shut WingDings has an idea. Turning to Shyren he signs to her. ‘Do you think she can see when her shell is closed?’ he asks her, just to be sure.

‘I don’t think so,’ Shyren is able to respond, but ends up turning towards the front of the vehicle so she can see where they are going.

WingDings is about to sign more, but seeing that Shyren isn’t looking at him, he summons his hands in front of her eyes so he can keep talking to her. ‘Can I have a marker?’ he asks her.

‘Not now,’ the woman signs and Tenga lightly waves the magic hands away from Shyren’s field of vision.

“Refrain from signing in front of her face, she needs to see where we are going,” Tenga explains to the child. “And why would you need a marker?”

“Synchronicity,” Shelly speaks up, her clam shell opening again. “There may or may not be a coincidental commonality between my shell being closed and his request for a marker.”

Tenga’s eyes narrow at the young boy. “There will be no disrespectful pranks on your new tutor WingDings,” Tenga forbids him. “We both want to keep this one.”

Pouting, WingDings folds his arms across his chest and glares at Tenga, but it isn’t long before he is distracted by the lavish lights beaming from the businesses they pass. They dive deeper and deeper into the city, but instead of getting darker, it almost becomes brighter with colorful displays permeating the depths of the city.

When they reach the hotel Shelly helps a nauseous Shyren from the vehicle as Tenga grabs Shelly’s things from the back. This leaves WingDings to do his best swimming beside them, where he flops and floats comically. He does his very best and refuses to use magic even when a child sees him, points at him and laughs. In response the five year old does his best to ignore it, determined to do this on his own, but the more people stare the further behind he falls from his guardians.

Tenga waits for him as the females move through the lobby and up through the enormous entrance to their rooms. The lavish hotel is carved directly into the rock, stretching high above WingDings’ head to the rooms and halls the establishment has to offer. It appears to be made of glistening crystals and is again thanks to the oceans lack of strong gravity that such a structure with it’s ornate glass design can even exist and function properly. There is no need for stairs, just like at the guards office building, although their does appear to be some kind of lift for the elderly monster guests staying there.

And for those like Shyren who suffer from motion sickness.

As WingDings looses his concentration, studying the dangling crystals and admiring how they glow, he sinks to floor, forgetting his troubles until Tenga comes in front of him. “Lets get moving WingDings,” he tells the child.

Nodding, WingDings does his best to follow and Tenga takes his time so the child doesn’t feel like he’s being left behind. Shyren and Shelly are in the room long before they make it to the very top floor penthouse. No matter how many monsters stare or laugh at him, WingDings remains determined to get to the room on his own. Not that Tenga can really help while carrying Shelly’s bags. When they reach the room, Shelly is making a snack in the kitchen/living area while Shyren rests in one of the bed rooms.

WingDings looks around the spacious area and joins Shelly in the kitchen while Tenga puts away the bags and checks in on Shyren. The suite they’ll be staying in for the following week consists of the kitchen/living area, three bed rooms, a laundry, and two bathrooms. Another unique asset to the space is a piano, placed off the living area. WingDings is sharing a room with Tenga while the females each have their own room. As WingDings nibbles on his snack, Shelly takes out a few books from her bags and sets them beside the child.

Since he enjoys learning, he doesn’t complain and does his best to impress her with his math skills. Fully aware of WingDings excellence in math, Shelly turns the child’s focus onto reading. He is not as thrilled by her diversion, but still does his best. When he grows frustrated Shelly has him work on swimming before allowing him to plunk out a tune on the piano.

When Tenga emerges he watches WingDings from Shyren’s door. He floats there long enough for WingDings to stop playing and look back at the male. “How is she feeling?” WingDings asks.

Snapped out of his thoughts, Tenga clears his throat, his gills sputtering bubbles as he moves to the kitchen. “She’s feeling much better,” he says. “She really likes your music.”

Beaming with pride WingDings turns back to the piano and continues to practice.

As he does so, Shelly goes to the kitchen and speaks with Tenga. “Synchronicity,” Shelly says. “WingDings shares the same likeness with the late W.D. Gaster. Adviser and Crown Regent of the Empress.”

WingDings doesn’t understand most of what she said, but he does recognize the name Empress and hearing it makes his song halt without his realizing it. It was weeks ago that Tenga mentioned his counter part, a fact that doesn’t surprise him given the WingDings he met in the last world he visited, but what does ‘late’ mean? And what does he have to do with the scary empress?

“He does,” Tenga doesn’t dart around Shelly’s observation, which isn’t surprising. “I was convinced he was a descendant of the famous monster but the RGD has yet to confirm his identity.” The monster shakes his head and roughly slaps dinner, a raw fish, onto the counter. “In fact, they haven't made strides to confirm anything these past three weeks. Not only is it confirmed that the system is flawed I am now made to believe it is contrived of the imbecilic and inept.”

“Those are strong words, Mister Arent,” Shelly observes glancing back at WingDings who is obviously listening to their conversation.

Noticing this Tenga sighs. “Continue to play please,” he tells the child, surprising the boy with the polite use of the word ‘please’. “Shyren enjoys it.”

“But I want to know more about W.D. Gaster,” WingDings says.

“I’ve already told you, he worked for the Royal family and was the Empresses’ most loyal servant,” Tenga tells him again as he turns on the steamer, to cook the fish. “Until he died five years ago.”

WingDings goes silent and considers how odd it is that W.D. died five years ago and he is five years old. 

Also, it’s a sad that his counterpart is dead in this world.

“Synchronicity strikes again,” Shelly replies.

“Or coincidence,” Tenga answers swiftly.

“Did he have any other family?” WingDings asks, thinking of the large family he once lived with on dirt floors.

“As far as anyone knows, he didn’t,” Tenga answers. His stiff expression screws into something less cold and more soft. It could be sadness, but WingDings is unable to recognize what it is on the monsters face aside from overall seriousness. “I’m sorry WingDings.”

“Sorry for what?” WingDings asks, lifting a brow. 

“For being unable to return you to your family,” Tenga answers.

“I told you they aren’t here,” WingDings rolls his eyes.

“You also . . . implied that you could not remember anything,” Tenga’s eyes begin to narrow cluing the child in that the insightful Tenga is becoming suspicious again.

With that twinge of awkwardness WingDings turns back to the piano and starts playing. As he plays he wonders if Frisk is around looking for the piece of his soul, like the last time. Or should he be looking for the piece of his soul so he can go back home. Hitting a note wrong WingDings winces, his whole body tensing at the wrongness of the sound.

This wasn’t suppose to happen.

He shouldn’t be here.

Shaking his head, he tries playing again, but it just sounds wrong even as he hits the keys perfectly. His thoughts are bouncing around and instead of making any sense it only makes WingDings anxious and uncomfortable. The song trails off and he looks at Tenga and Shelly who are talking quietly among themselves. When Tenga notices that WingDings has stopped playing he stops talking and gives the child a small smile.

WingDings is already smiling because he is a skeleton, making it is the sort of smile that doesn’t share his actual feelings. The child turns back to the piano and fingers the keys, but doesn’t press down on them. After a moment, WingDings is joined by Tenga who hovers above him and the piano.

Reaching forward Tenga plays a tune, a difficult task with the lack of actual fingers and while hunched forward, but he proves to be rather talented. Eventually he slides beside WingDings and the child slowly taps out the notes on his side of the piano, his shoulders relaxing and eyes growing large as he is able to focus solely on the notes.

“You can talk about it when your ready to,” Tenga tells him. “Neither Shyren or I will push you child, but we can’t help you unless you talk to us.”

WingDings makes a face, still focused on hitting the notes correctly, but Tenga puts a fin over his small hands causing him to stop and think about what the older fish said.

“Thank you Mister Arent,” WingDings finally says. “I know.”

“Know what WingDings?” Tenga asks, doing his best to withhold his annoyance. “You need to speak clearly so I can understand.”

“That I can tell you anything,” WingDings says honestly.

“I’m glad WingDings,” Tenga’s smile is small, coming across as awkward but lovingly genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short with no art this week, but life happens and hey it's still Friday somewhere. Enjoy the quick read.


	7. Playing Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which WingDings makes a new friend?

When Tenga finishes preparing dinner, Shyren emerges from her bedroom looking much better. Tenga gives everyone present a brief overview of what the week will look like and from there they head to the theater which is only a block away. The theater, like the hotel, is carved into the cavern wall, although where as the hotel reminds WingDings of a crystal flower, he compares the theater to a carved painting. There are splashes of color everywhere, swirling and bending around each other, acting as a prelude to the show everyone is about to see.

As Tenga meets with some of Shyren’s sponsors, WingDings goes with Shyren and Shelly to her room as she prepares. The monsters assisting Shyren with her makeup and wardrobe are different this time, so WingDings gets to meet a new group of people. Apparently Shyren is employing the locals at each location to help her, which might be considered odd to some, but for the local populace it says a lot.

The significance of this goes over WingDings head for the most part, but it does lead him to ask Shelly an insightful question. “Why not hire a new tutor for me every week?” he asks. “Everyone else is new.”

“They wanted you to have stability,” Shelly explains as they are led backstage to watch from the side, instead of a box seat.

“Stability?” WingDings asks.

“A state of being stable,” Shelly answers. “It is important for a child to have consistency in their life to remain healthy. Shyren and Tenga know that traveling could have negative affects on you so they wanted someone who could always be there with you when they could not.”

WingDings eyes go wide, finding the idea not only interesting, but familiar since his brothers have mentioned it before in passing. If Shyren and Tenga are thinking the same things as his brothers, the smartest people he knows, then this must mean they are smart too.

“They are very intelligent,” WingDings states matter-of-factly, proud that he’s come to be with them.

“I agree,” Shelly says as they take a seat on a bench out of the way from the workers. It is strange watching Shyren from the side lines, peeking at her between the thick curtains of red sea weed but it doesn’t change the quality of her voice. It is still an ethereal sound, with the gentle flow of the orchestra beneath her feet. She doesn’t really need the music to accompany her, but the musicians work hard to enhance the quality of her song rather than distract or compete with it.

When the event is over Shelly takes WingDings from the theater back home. It is very late and the child is half asleep as Shelly dutifully puts him in his net. He’s a little disappoint that he didn’t get to see Tenga or Shyren before they left and tries to stay awake, but despite this notion he falls asleep anyway.

Instead of waking to the sound of Tenga making breakfast he wakes to the sound of the agents bubbly snores as WingDings startles from a nightmare he doesn’t remember. Nightmares are still common for the child, but this marks the first he’s had once since arriving. Fighting in his net, WingDings wrestles with it, feeling trapped and constricted in it’s crisscrossing twine. When he manages to pry it open, he tumbles from the net, flipping through the ocean till he comes to rest on the floor upside down.

Eyes glowing strong, WingDings leaves the room and manages to reach the kitchen. From there he proceeds to search every drawer and cabinet for some Lum Gums, in hopes to make himself happy and forget the pit of fear clutching his soul. With the help of his magic hands he’s able to search rather quietly, but his search doesn’t go unnoticed.

Something appears at the corner of his eye and in reflex he summons a bone defensively between himself and the figure. All of his hands vanish and his eyes spark with magic, his already fretting soul, hit with adrenalin like determination that races through his bones.

“WingDings, it’s me,” Shyren says softly, the bone he’s constructed, inches from her body.

Realizing that he’s almost hit the woman with his magic, WingDings trembles and quickly dissipates the bone between them. Scared, the child scrunches his body, gripping his arms close to his chest, ready to bolt if needed. Instead of moving, Shyren remains where she’s at and speaks softly.

“You’re not in trouble,” she assures him, which immediately coaxes WingDings tight body language into something more lax, but still cautious. “Why are you up?”

“I had a nightmare,” WingDings explains softly.

“Do you want to talk about it,” she slowly sinks to the floor, draping her arms into her lap.

“I can’t remember the dream,” WingDings explains. “I never remember.”

“What are you doing up?” she asks.

“After a nightmare Papyrus would get me a glass of water . . . but we’re in the ocean,” WingDings explains, not once thinking that his explanation might be strange. “So I was looking for my Lum Gum’s.” The child deflates and then realizes that she might take what he’s said wrong. Not the strange comment about the glass of water, no, something far more important for a child who typically has rules in place regarding sweet treats.

Quickly lifting his hands and waving them he moves to reassure his guardian that he isn’t going to pig out on his favorite treat. “I promise I was only going to have a few,” he says. “I want to save them.”

To say Shyren is surprised by the child’s priorities, is an understatement, but aside from seeing her one eye go wide, she hides it well. Chuckling musically, she recovers from her shock and smiles at WingDings. Moving upright she retrieves his Lum Gums from a top cabinet he wouldn’t be able to reach or see into. When she has his treat, she takes a seat again and motioning for him to come to her. 

Without a second thought he does as she asks and comes to coil himself in front of her. ‘You can have a few,’ she tells to him, choosing to sign again now that WingDings has calmed down.

‘Thank you,’ WingDings signs back accepting a few treats from her hand. He takes them one at a time, savoring the taste of each. As he enjoys the second piece he scoots closer to sit beside her and she rests a hand onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry about the bone,” he says softly.

‘You were scared, it wouldn’t have hurt me,’ she assures him, rubbing his forearm.

“Normally my bones aren’t that big,” WingDings admits.

‘Fear is a powerful thing,’ Shyren signs with one hand. ‘It can control us if we let it.’

WingDings nods.

‘But being startled and afraid are two different things,’ Shyren says. ‘You didn’t let it control you and you let me help you.’ She smiles and squeezes his arm before releasing him. ‘You are strong WingDings, much stronger than your nightmares.’

While her words may not be remembered, the feeling of hope she shares with him remains and banishes any lingering fears remaining in his soul.

The following day WingDings starts in a chipper mood, making the most of Shelly’s constant presence and plethora of knowledge. While Shyren and Tenga go out to meet with fans, WingDings stays at the room learning with Shelly. When they are finished with his work around three his tutor takes him out into the city where she shows him the sight and flavors of her home. He isn’t much a fan of the eatery she takes him too, but he really enjoys the crystal light show in the city square.

After exploring for a couple hours they return to the hotel where Shyren is making dinner.

“Where’s Tenga?” WingDings asks as he sits on a stool at the counter.

‘He’s finishing up arrangements for a recording of a new song,’ Shyren says.

“That’s exciting news,” Shelly tells Shyren. “A new song after all these years.”

The singer blushes, fiddling a moment with her squid like hair before returning to her work in the kitchen. Wishing to help, Shelly joins her and the two work together to make a decent meal, bonding over their love of seaweed casserole.

“She’s been working on new songs for a while,” WingDings tells Shelly as they work.

“I look forward to hearing them,” Shelly says.

‘Can you play something for me WingDings?’ Shyren asks.

Eager to please, WingDings dashes to the piano unaware that he has successfully swam the entire distance without struggle. Rather than draw attention to it though, the females share a look before Shyren beams with hope. As WingDings plays, the women continue to chat softly and cook. When Tenga finally arrives they scarf down their meal before returning to the theater.

Everyone is very busy, but Shelly is always there to keep WingDings company and discreetly out of the way. WingDings watches most of the performance until he falls asleep. The following several days follow the same pattern unless Shyren doesn’t have an event to attend then she stays at the hotel with Shelly and WingDings. Nearing the end of there week in the city of Stardust Shyren takes WingDings with her to one of the events, where she greets her fans and signs some items usually in the form of one of her CD’s.

“How does this work underwater?” WingDings asks Shelly as he looks at one of the ‘Greatest Hit’s’ CD’s being sold at the event. They’re in a shop selling music and books located several blocks away from the hotel.

“A compact disk?” Shelly clarifies. “Well first you put it in a device that can read the disk. Once inside the player, it reads the information using a laser directed at the smooth surface of the disk. It bounces off the surface and through a lens into the player as the CD rotates on a turntable.”

“But doesn’t the friction in the water make it harder for the disk to turn?” WingDings clarifies. “And wouldn’t water harm the inside of the machine?”

“Yes it does,” Shelly confirms. “That’s why the inside must either be sealed, be made of more durable material, or use magic to operate.”

Behind them Tenga listens, but doesn’t comment, keeping the line of fans moving along, but he’s having trouble with the current monster hovering over the table Shyren is sitting at. It is obvious she is ready to greet the next monster in line, but the eye ball monster with eight black limbs is eagerly talking to Shyren about her performances. 

“You have such a serene sound, an angel under the sea,” they prattle, leaning forward and causing the woman to lean back, smiling stiffly.

‘Thank you, have a nice day,’ Shyren signs to them, making it clear it’s time for the monster to move on.

“I saw you at the Sparkle theater,” they quickly spout, all of their limbs hugging their body close. “I’ve seen all the performances I could! At least four.”

The monster is no longer leaning across the table, somewhat aware of Shyren’s discomfort, but they can’t seem to get the idea to leave.

“There are others waiting,” Tenga places himself between Shyren and the overly enthusiastic monster. “Shyren wants to meet with all her fans.”

The monster seems to the get the idea, but then leans around Tenga to speak with Shyren again.

Clearly annoyed, Tenga looks back at WingDings and waves a fin at him. Taking the hint WingDings summons a hand onto the monsters head, the skeletal fingers dangling just in view of the monsters one large eye. Backing up swiftly, the monster watches the hand float past his eye, staring at it in worry and giving Tenga enough room to put more space between the monster and Shyren.

“Please,” Tenga motions with his fin. “It’s time for you to go.” The skeleton hand vanishes in the blink of an eye before anyone else can be spooked by it. It is a simple action, but just enough to throw the eye monster off. 

Smiling smugly WingDings watches the two go, returning his attention to Shelly. “Not my best work, but I didn’t want to scare everyone away,” he brags.

“Have you tried tickling people?” Shelly asks.

Surprised by the idea, WingDings shakes his head before smiling with excitement. She’s given him a new way to use his hands that he didn’t have before. “That’s a good idea!” he says summoning a hand and using it to attempt tickling her.

She smiles at him but doesn’t laugh even as his dexterous fingers lightly flit over her exposed arms. “I’m not ticklish,” she says, even when his hand comes to lightly touch the inside of her shell. To WingDings surprise she allows the shell around her face to close, trapping his magic hand inside.

Since the action is unexpected WingDings jumps a little but after waiting he realizes he can still feel the magic of his hand inside her shell. He carefully moves it, mutely feeling the smooth silky surface of the shell with his fingers until he runs into her face. Not wishing to hurt her he dispels the magic hand as she opens her shell. “Did I hurt you?” he asks with worry.

“I’m perfectly fine,” she assures him. “Did you learn anything.”

“I learned that I can still use my magic even when I can’t see it,” WingDings grins. “I’ve never had to use a magic hand I can’t see.”

“Imagine all the things you can learn to do with those hands,” Shelly encourages him.

“Imagine all the pranks!” he exclaims.

Shelly chuckles, but is doing a poor job hiding her embarrassment at his proclamation. Close by Shyren has a similar expression on her face, but manages to smile more sincerely when someone asks for a picture.

Despite the minor hiccup with the exuberant fan, the rest of the event goes well and so does the concert that evening. The following day is the last full day they’ll be in Stardust. After his lessons, both academic and swimming, Shelly takes WingDings to her neighbor’s house where he meets a child named Susie.

She is a young sea salamander like monster with flowing dark hair, purple scales and a moody personality. While Shelly visits with Susie’s mother, WingDings is dragged around Susie’s room where she shows him all her dolls and toys. He isn’t very interested, but it’s been a while since he’s had to tolerate someone his own age.

“You’ll be the Dad and I’ll be the Mom and these are our children,” Susie states, setting up her room as if it is a house, the bed net acting as the children’s rest place, her coral chest acting as the kitchen and her closet as WingDings supposed ‘workplace’. “Now you have to go to work.”

WingDings goes into the closet and sits in the tiny space with nothing interesting in it wondering what he’s suppose to do. There are clothes draped on hooks, with boxes of toys crammed into the corner.

“Bye Dad, I’ll see you after work,” she says and moves to close the sliding thick screen in front of the closet. This plunges the small cramped space into darkness and WingDings hastily summons a hand and opens the closet door.

“Work isn’t over yet,” Susie tells him with a huff, crossing her arms across her front, her sharp teeth flashing. “Do you want to get fired?”

“Why do I have to go work in a dark closet?” WingDings asks in turn.

“Because that’s the office, my room is the house,” Susie explains with a mild growl, as if it should be obvious.

“It doesn’t even look like an office,” WingDings tells her.

“You have to use your ‘imagination’,” she tells him dully, putting the word ‘imagination’ in helpful quotes with her claws. She doesn’t look that thrilled about the word either, but she’ll use it now since it’s in her favor.

“But I don’t want an office job,” WingDings tells her.

“Daddy says you don’t get to chose a job if you want to get paid well,” she answers, tilting her nose up.

“That’s stupid,” WingDings tells her rudely. He doesn’t know it’s rude, it’s a statement of fact that makes perfect sense to him.

Growling and slapping her tail against the floor, Susie’s face becomes scrunched up like a prune as her anger sparks. “No it isn’t!” she shouts.

“I want to be a doctor,” WingDings declares, not at all bothered by her shouting. Ever since he met WingDings Aster he’s liked the idea of being a doctor, although not a doctor who wear’s dark robes stained with dirt and that strange white mask. A modern doctor. The skeleton fish squirms out of the closet and moves for the door. “And doctor’s don’t work in dark closets.”

“Well you can’t work from home!” Suzy shouts again, ruffled by WingDings changing her game and disobeying her. It’s her house so it’s her rules.

“Then I’ll work from the living room,” WingDings tells her, ignorant of why she’s so upset and content to let her stay that way.

“Fine!” she slaps her tail fin again and as soon as he’s out of her room, she slides the seaweed curtain between them. It isn’t as effective as the slam of a door, but the idea comes across well enough.

Rolling his eye lights, WingDings goes to the living room and sits beside Shelly who is chatting away with her friend. When they notice him sitting there Susie’s mom teeters off and smiles at him, although an etch of worry can be seen as her eyes briefly flick towards her daughters bedroom. “Having fun?” she asks.

“We’re playing house,” WingDings explains. “I’m a Doctor and this is where I work. Dark closets aren’t a fitting place for doctors to work.”

“That . . . makes sense,” Susie’s mom says. “Would you like some fish sticks?”

“Are they raw?” WingDings asks.

“. . . Yes,” she answers.

“No thank you,” WingDings says politely.

“Well, let me know if you need anything,” she says and turns back to Shelly.

The two continue to have there conversation and WingDings occupies his time with some things in Shelly’s bag. She always carries things for him, so he takes the opportunity to read one of his easy reader books. After a long while, Shelly turns to WingDings and pats his tail fin.

“You should check on Susie,” she tells him.

“But she didn’t tell me when work is over,” WingDings says, completely content with his book. Honestly he’s never been a big fan of playing make-believe or ‘pretend’ as some of the kids call it back home. He finds it annoying and nonsensical. And they’re so bossy.

“Your a doctor, you can decide when it’s over,” Shelly replies, gently scooting him off the cushion.

He makes no efforts to move and he flops onto the floor as she scoot him off. Only after he’s on the floor does he slowly make his way to Susie’s room, leaving his book in Shelly’s bag.

Parting the curtain of seaweed WingDings spies Susie playing with her doll’s in a lack luster fashion. She’s putting them into the net and kissing their heads, before turning and seeing WingDings peeking in on her.

“I’m home,” WingDings says coming into the room.

“You’re late,” she says stiffly.

“I was busy saving lives,” he replies with a shrug.

“You need to spend more time with your family,” she spouts, the line rehearsed perfectly. Either that or she’s regurgitating what she’s heard. WingDings doesn’t particularly care either way.

“You mean the dolls?” he says.

“They aren’t dolls,” she rolls her eyes. “They’re the kids.”

“Are they ever just dolls?” he asks.

“We’re playing house,” she reminds him.

“I don’t see why, since I don’t like this game,” he says flatly.

Crossing her arms again, Susie scrunches her face, her childish amount of patience wearing thin, which by all accounts doesn’t exists. “You’re being mean,” she says.

“So are you,” he declares. “Putting me in your closet and making me work.”

For the third time the young girl slaps her fin on the ground and declares in a strong voice, “I’m divorcing you!”

“Kay, have fun,” WingDings shrugs and leaves the room with the girl screaming after him.

When WingDings returns to the living area, the women are looking past him to Susie’s room, hearing the girls screams easily. Susie’s mother gives them both a wary smile before getting up and swimming to her daughters room.

“What happened?” Shelly asks.

“Susie wants a divorce,” WingDings answers stoically, coiling his tail around and placing his hands in his lap. Considering all the times he’s played ‘house’ before he’s a little surprised that this one ended nearly the same way it typically does, despite taking place in another world under the sea. With a curious expression he looks up at Shelly and declares. “This is why I don’t play house.”

“You should apologize,” Shelly sighs.

“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong,” he declares, his cheeks turning a light pink.

“Are you sure? Were you kind? Did you play fair,” she presses him.

WingDings glares at the ground and presses his lips.

“How would you feel if someone treated you that way?” she continues.

“I’d feel bad . . . but she was being bossy!” his hands snap to his sides, gripping the sea sponge cushion tight.

“We’re talking about you not Susie,” she says. “Are you happy with how you acted?”

Of course the answer is no, but WingDings is too young and stubborn to say it out loud or even acknowledge the feeling.

Shortly after, Susie emerges from her room with her mother. “I’m sorry I was so bossy,” she says looking down past her toes, her eyes darting up when he doesn’t respond immediately.

“Apology accepted,” WingDings says, relaxing his arms and placing them in his lap again. When Shelly opens her shell and makes a pointed look, the kind of look that demands a response he thinks of what to say. The look Susie’s mom is giving him is also not helping as the little girl fists her hands.

Tightly pressing his lips together WingDings looks Susie in the eyes and constructs a response of his own. “I’m sorry for calling your Dad stupid and pointing out the flaws of your silly game,” WingDings finally replies, not once breaking eye contact.

Any semblance of ease Susie had been coaxed into with his apparent apology vanishes when WingDings tells her exactly what he was doing to her. His unyielding eye contact is also unnerving, making the girl even more emotional. Tightening her hands into fists the girl screams at him, a shrill ungodly sound that rings in the child’s skull and makes his eyes the size of pin pricks. This is hardly the first time this has happened and he’s well aware it won’t be the last.

“I hate you!” she screams and darts from her mothers grasp and attempts to hit him.

The women watch in horror but Susie mother is prepared and quickly snatches the young girl into her arms and takes her thrashing daughter to her room.

“I was hoping we’d leave on a happy note,” Shelly sighs.

“I did what you told me to!” WingDings says, his voice squeaking.

“Please apologize to Mrs. Dralmer before we leave,” Shelly says and for the first time since meeting her the clam girl frowns at him.

The child tries to retain eye contact but eventually looks away, fiddling with his hands and fidgeting.

When Suzy’s mom returns, WingDings apologizes to her. “I was being mean, I’m sorry,” he states simply. If he says more it would sound less and less like a heart felt apology.

“You need to work on that WingDings, but it wasn’t just you,” she says and turns to her neighbor. “I know you’ll teach him a lot Shelly, I wish you the best. I know I don’t need to tell you to enjoy this once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I am,” Shelly answers, hugging her friend and taking WingDings from the home.

They take a taxi back to the hotel and on the way WingDings tries to initiate a conservation with Shelly, but her shell remains closed leaving the child feeling awkward and shameful for his behavior earlier. He wants to make it better, but no matter what he says it doesn’t seem to be enough. By the time they reach the hotel room WingDings has grown quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Susie made a guest appearance and I need to explain this, sorry for my oncoming ramble. I wrote this story before Deltarune came out and had to rewrite most of this scene, but to my great relief it still worked out. This is the third version of this story and I didn’t want to scrape everything like I did the first two times.
> 
> When I included Clam Girl in this story I knew I had to have Susie, but as we all know you don’t actually meet this special neighbor in Undertale. Imagine my surprise when Deltarune came out leaving me sitting there in bewilderment because all I could think about was how I needed to rewrite this scene. I’m happy with the end result and am glad Deltarune gave us such a great character.
> 
> Said a little more than usual, but I don't think that's a crime. And yes WingDings is in trouble because he’s isn’t perfect and is a spoiled baby bones. Susie would have bit him if her mother wasn’t there.


	8. Unintended Improvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The questions of his soul are answered and look it’s a confused doctor.

Quiet rooms are nice most of the time. WingDings likes quiet and peace, but the quiet that permeates the hotel room when they return from Susie’s house leaves a heavy discomfort in the four year old soul. He’d do just about anything to relieve the discomfort even meet Shelly’s disappointed gaze.

“Have a seat WingDings,” Shelly says, motioning for the boy to join her on the sponge couch.

He complies, sitting beside her. There is still a smile gracing his lips but it’s evident from his drawn shoulders that he is not looking forward to this conversation.

“I saw a different side of you today WingDings,” Shelly starts. “Your behavior this past week has been exceptional for the most part, but you have little tolerance for those your own age.”

“My teacher says I need to be nicer to my . . . ‘peers’, especially since I know better,” WingDings mumbles saying the word peers awkwardly, not typically using the word but hearing it a lot.

Shelly turns towards him, caught in a dilemma and even though WingDings is anxious to hear her say something she chooses her next words carefully. “Your teacher is right,” she starts. “And you are a bright boy.” She nudges his shoulder and he blushes at the positive attention he’s been craving since they left Suzy’s house.

“Amiable,” she continues, taking another opportunity to teach a new word. “Being friendly and pleasant with those around you. It’s very important quality to have.”

“Amiable,” WingDings repeats the word, pressing his lips and rolling them around. “I don’t think I’ll remember that word.”

“Dubious,” Shelly states the new words, and stands moving towards the kitchen to get him a snack. “Improbably and unlikely, but the people around you will remind you to be kind I’m sure.”

WingDings doesn’t say anything, but he feels better than he did and joins her in the kitchen.

That night is an emotional one for those working at the theater, since it’s the final performance in their city before Shyren moves on. The singer is blushing from the attention, but is smiling bright and eager to put on a good show for them. She even surprises everyone there by preforming one of her new songs when the audience begs for an encore.

Despite the late hour, WingDings manages to enjoy the performance with Shelly’s help. She wakes him in time for the encore performance. His soul soars when he recognizes the song as one she worked on with him and his grin grows impossibly large. It reminds him of how they met, how kind she was and still is. He feels lucky and glad to be with her, but then he remembers his brothers.

He wishes they were here with him to hear this.

Even as Shelly leaves with him from the theater, his eyes barely open, there is an elated happiness glowing behind his smile with an echo of sadness pressing his soul.

Early the next day a small group of monsters leave with their things, but they depart in a taxi to the Transportation Station. “That was the song you taught me,” WingDings says as they travel through the city, with Shyren doing her best to keep her eyes forward.

‘Did you enjoy it?’ Shyren asks.

“I did!” WingDings hops in the seat. “It reminded me of when we met.” He stops a moment and without giving it any thought, because why would he need to, he continues. “I wish my brother’s could have heard it.”

“Your brothers?” Tenga presses, leaning forward to look at WingDings.

“Yes, they aren’t here though,” WingDings swings his tail back and forth, nibbling his bottom lip, unaware of the importance of what he’s revealed to his caretakers.

He doesn’t say anymore, lost in hundreds of thoughts and no one in the car presses him for an explanation about his brothers. When they reach the Transportation Station Shyren is looking a little green for different reasons than the color of her scales and WingDings is grumpy about getting in the machine again. Instead of going to one of the platforms with Shyren, Tenga takes his hand and swims him to a special closed off area.

“Tenga Arent, I called earlier,” he tells one of the employees who is leaning upright behind a ‘special services’ desk.

“Yes, sir, right this way,” the worker, a squid monster with legs, leads them to a special room. It’s a simple round space and looks a little like the pedestals, only smaller and with more rods scattered around. “You must be WingDings, this machine won’t hurt you,” the worker explains.

“It won’t?” WingDings asks and quickly looks at Tenga.

“Miss Shyren will be waiting for you on the other side,” the agent assures the child.

“You can’t come with me?” WingDings asks, feeling a little nervous as the worker leads him to the center of the device. The worker encourages him to sit, so he’s comfortable, before leaving him and positioning himself behind the console for operating the machine.

“The machine is for you not me,” Tenga replies.

“I don’t like this,” WingDings eyes spark with magic.

“And I wish you’d told us sooner about the transport machine bothering your soul,” Tenga answers back candidly. “We don’t want you to get hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” WingDings rolls his eyes. Before he can focus on Tenga again, there is a distortion of the space around him and when he blinks and rubs his eyes he see’s Shyren standing there instead of Tenga. 

Frowning, WingDings sighs and rolls his eyes a second time. “I wasn’t finished talking to him.” 

‘Who?’ Shyren questions, a giggle bubbling past her lips.

“Tenga! He didn’t explain anything to me,” WingDings huffs, sloppily swimming over to her and taking her hand.

‘He knows you ask a lot of questions,’ Shyren explains. ‘He was worried you’d get scared if he tried to explain and that you would miss your appointment if he took the time to answers all of your questions.”

WingDings lower lips stick out and he glares down at the grain patterned floor momentarily. He isn’t looking down long when they come into the main transport area and make their way to the lobby. Like the city of Stardust this Teleportation Transportation building is extremely large and very busy. The child can barely make out the wispy decor with the mass of bodies swimming around him.

As they swim to the front of the building Shyren is careful to keep a tight grip on his hand as they make their way towards Shelly. Like the city of Stardust this one also appears to be built within a canyon, only this one isn’t as narrow and is flowing with green plants and other colorful vegetation clutching the rocky surfaces and stone buildings. This time their isn’t a taxi at the platform and Shyren leads them down one of many illuminated glass tubes burrowing into the rock floor.

When they reach the end of the bright large tunnel Shelly and Shyren hand a uniformed merman a slip of paper. He directs them to a red platform, before returning to the tunnel to help the next group of monsters in line.

“What are we here for?” WingDings asks, looking around once they reach the bottom. It appears to be a large boring hall where monster fish and mermaids wait on benches. One of the first things he also notices are the colorful tile murals on the walls and an enormous glass tube with a rail dipping off the platform they are waiting on . “And where are we?”

“We’re in the city New Harpert and this is a subway,” Shelly answers. “Miss Shyren won’t get as motion sick traveling this way.”

“I’ve never been on a subway before,” WingDings leans towards the glass wishing to presses his face into it, but Shyren keeps a firm grip on his hand so he doesn’t wander too far or smudge the glass. She appears nervous, constantly looking up at the pedestrian tunnels expectantly. It isn’t until Tenga appears that she completely relaxes and actively listens to Shelly’s attempts at carrying a conversation.

“I’m mad at you,” WingDings declares to Tenga as soon as the fish monster is floating beside them.

“Why is that WingDings?” Tenga asks.

“For putting me in a strange machine,” WingDings snaps. “And not answering my questions.”

“As recompense for my behavior I am willing to answer your questions now,” Tenga states, clasping his fins over his front.

“Why did I have to go in that machine?” WingDings asks first.

“Because you commented last time that the teleportation process caused your soul pain,” Tenga answers. “It would be irresponsibly and negligent of us to have knowledge of this ailment and force you to endure it again, so I made arrangement for you to use a modified machine that wouldn’t cause your soul needless stress, pain or discomfort. Unless the machine still caused you harm? Do not be silent about such things WingDings. Your health and well being are important.”

As Tenga gives WingDings the long answer, the child tries to speak up more than once, but is forced to stay silent in order to hear the monsters full explanation. When Tenga is finished and waiting for a response WingDings answers easily enough, eager to ask his next question. “It didn’t hurt at all,” he says quickly, just as a the sound of rushing water fills the tube and the roar of turbines can be heard coming closer and closer.

WingDings quickly forgets his question as he watches a train like vehicle speed through the glass tunnel, with streaks of red and yellow painted on the sides. When the train stops, panels of glass slide up and the doors to the subway train open, allowing monsters to spill out and others to go in. Keeping hold of WingDings hand Shyren swims onto the train with Tenga and Shelly right beside them.

The train is crowded and WingDings floats a little closer to Shyren, uncomfortable with the cramped space and the amount of bodies pressed around him. Everyone grabs onto a pole, rail, or sits, but WingDings just hangs onto Shyren when the train leaves the station. Shelly tries to talk to him, but WingDings responses are short, much to agitated with the loud hum of the train and cluster of monster. When the train stops, WingDings eagerly moves for the exit, but Shyren presses him close again.

‘This isn’t our stop,’ she tells him.

WingDings buzzes anxiously, and glares at the floor.

“Are you scared?” Shelly asks with concern.

“No!” WingDings barks, eyes flashing as he fights with his riled emotions.

“It’s okay to be scared,” Shelly tells him. “We won’t let anything happen to you.”

Hearing this assurance make him feel a little better, but this doesn’t make the noise any softer or the people drift further away. When they reach their stop, WingDings is practically dragging Shyren out of the train and eagerly travels up the closest pedestrian tunnel. When they reach the top, they are dumped into a plaza, where buildings of stone reach to the surface. Colorful banners and plant life decorate the buildings, adding life to the otherwise gray structures.

“The hotel isn’t far,” Tenga says, leading their group up towards a nice resort building down one of the streets. There are no vehicles of any kind traveling through the area, just lots of monsters. 

Once checking into the lavish hotel Tenga prepares a meal, while Shyren rests and Shelly spends time with WingDings. During their meal Tenga goes over what to expect this week including several meet and greets with fans and a special recording session at one of the cities famous studios. Tenga tells WingDings that he’ll be able to come if he remains well behaved. “This includes your upcoming visit with a doctor,” Tenga says as WingDings slurps up some pasta from his bowl.

“Doctor?” WingDings asks.

“Yes,” Tenga says. “Typically the MKD provides a physician for foster children, but seeing as they have yet to do so, we’ve scheduled one for you from a pediatrician we’ve used in the past. He’ll be coming here the day after tomorrow to give you a check up.”

“Okay,” WingDings says, not at all bothered by this since he’s used to seeing doctors. With a soul as strange as his doctor visits are inevitable and he’s mostly had only good experiences.

On the other hand the adults in the room are a little surprised that WingDings doesn’t put up more of a fuss. Young children, in general, don’t enjoy doctors, just as a rule. ‘Have you seen a doctor before,’ Shyren asks.

“Before I met you I saw one,” WingDings says, scratching the side of his skull as he tries to think of how long ago it was. Since he’s so young time isn’t something he can gauge accurately and the adults in the room know this well as WingDings takes a guess. “It was last month, I think.”

Considering he’s been there a month this isn’t a stretch to believe, but it leaves them with many more questions about the mysterious child they’ve taken into their care. Being the perceptive child he is, WingDings notices the odd looks the adults are giving him and grows quiet trying to understand what he should say or do based on their puzzled expressions. “I see doctors a lot,” he tells them.

“And why is that, if you don’t mind my asking?” Tenga presses.

“You’ve seen my soul,” WingDings replies. Both Tenga and Shyren have helped him dress and clean several times now, so they’ve seen his human shaped red soul with tiny pieces of white speckled inside it. “It’s different than normal monster souls.”

‘I didn’t know it was that strange,’ Shyren reveals. ‘I assumed it was because of heredity.’

“Heredity?” WingDings automatically looks at Shelly.

“Heredity,” Shelly begins. “Characteristics, or features of ones self, that are passed down from generation to generation. I believe what Shyren is attempting to say is that she assumed your soul is the way it is because it’s a skeleton quality.”

“It’s special to me,” WingDings answers, having just a little trouble saying the word special. He’s too young to understand that saying ‘special’ in this case isn’t always a good thing, but he’s starting to sense it now.

“Is there anything else we should know, so that we might tell Doctor Yango,” Tenga asks.

“I get Soul Sickness often and I don’t have my medicine with me,” WingDings reveals. He hasn’t been ailed by the illness recently so he isn’t too worried and he is young. As far as he is concerned he feels great so therefore he won’t get sick ever again.

After hearing this Tenga stands and moves towards the phone, “I’m calling Doctor Yango,” he mumbles to Shyren. “This is something he needs to know.”

“Is something wrong?” WingDings asks, not liking the way this conversation is going with the adults acting so serious.

‘Soul Sickness, is a serious disease,’ Shelly answers. ‘It often leads to monster’s Falling Down.’

“My brothers said I wouldn’t Fall Down from it,” WingDings assures them, planting his hands in front of himself like he’s seen Tenga do when he’s acting serious.

‘Why is that?’ Shyren asks.

“Because I’m determined not to die,” WingDings states. Done with the conversation, WingDings turns his attention to one of his notebooks and swims to the coffee room table. This room sadly doesn’t have a piano, so he’ll make do with his math doodles.

The adults leave the questions alone for the moment, perceptively aware of WingDings shutting himself off from them, even though he himself doesn’t realize it.

For the following two days, WingDings stays with Shelly as he does his schooling and watches Shyren preform. His schedule is nearly identical to last week, making him feel rather comfortable despite the change in setting.

On the day Doctor Yango is set to visit, Shyren and Tenga stay at the room, postponing meetings so WingDings will have them close by and not just Shelly since she isn’t his guardian. When the doctor arrives WingDings is playing with a Rubik’s cube that Shelly bought for him the previous day.

“You must be WingDings,” Doctor Yango says pleasantly offering the young WingDings his hand.

WingDings bows his head politely and shakes the salamander monsters hand. “Hello, Doctor Yango,” he says.

“Can you have a seat on that chair for me?” Yango asks.

“Yes I can,” WingDings answers and does as he is asked.

The remainder of the visit is much like any other doctor visit WingDings has experienced except it takes place in the hotel room and not a clinic. The doctor checks the quality of his bones, takes a look in his sockets and nasal cavity, before checking on the condition of his soul. To Yango’s credit, he is careful to keep his concern hidden when he see’s the sorry state of the child’s soul. Unlike Shyren and Tenga though the doctor doesn’t leave the question of WingDings soul’s condition a mystery.

“Why is your soul like this WingDings?” he asks outright.

“I was born this way,” WingDings answers. “Pieces of my soul are missing.”

“So your soul isn’t the human soul I’m seeing,” Yango asks, allowing the soul to return behind the child’s ribs.

“That’s a part of my soul, but it was given to me,” WingDings says. “It’s determination and it keeps me alive. The white little pieces are my monster soul.”

“I’ve never seen such a treatment before,” Yango says in fascination. “Do you know the name of the doctor who accomplished this?”

“Doctor Alphys,” WingDings grins, not realizing the significance of the name in this world.

The doctor’s eyes go wide, before he smothers his surprise with a cordial grin. “Well she did a great job,” he finally says. The pause bothers WingDings a little, but Doctor Yango doesn’t seem to be patronizing him, so the child only smiles back and agrees with him. “You are as healthy as you can be. Go ahead and play with your puzzle while I have a word with your guardians.”

“Okay, thank you Doctor Yango,” WingDings offers his hand back to the doctor, catching the salamander off guard, but he firmly takes the child’s hand and gives it a hearty shake.

“My pleasure Mister WingDings,” he replies, before the child swims off to play with his Rubik’s Cube.

While the doctor speaks with Shyren and Tenga, Shelly takes WingDings out to the plaza where he has the opportunity to practice swimming and playing in the bubble fountain. There are a few other children there and Shelly encourages him to play with them, but aside from saying hi he avoids them, not really knowing what to do with them. While he plays in the bubbles a familiar sound tickles the inside of the skull.

It is the sound of protesters, making their way through one of the streets less than a block away. He watches as they cross a street, holding their signs and shouting familiar words about kindness towards land-folk and repairing broken relations with them. Most of the monsters and mer-folk around him ignore the protesters, but he continues to watch them like all the other young children in the area.

After that Shelly and WingDings return to the hotel room to eat, before they go to the theater. The protesters are across the street near the theater, but they don’t get any closer as the crowds of people pour into the elegant building. Like every night before, WingDings enjoys the performance, despite having to watch it behind the curtains. When the show goes later than normal, Shelly takes him back to the hotel so he can rest, waking bright and early the next morning.

Today is the day they are going to the recording studio and WingDings is understandable excited. There is also the promise of Lum Gum’s afterword as his reward for a good doctor visit and if he behaves well today in the recording studio. Really though WingDings is excited about the studio, having never had the experience before and eating up all the information Shelly tells him about the place, everything from what the workers do to the equipment they’re using.

After promising to be quiet, WingDings waits in the control room with Tenga and the sound engineers, while Shyren sits in another room across from them, separated by special glass. The recording booth is set up a little differently than a sound both on land since sound travels differently underwater. In some ways, the acoustics are better since it absorbs sound rather than causing the sound waves to bounce off the walls, but this makes it harder to record the sound clearly with it’s muffled quality. There is an entire science to capturing the sound of Shyren’s voice as accurately as they can and this in itself is enough to make WingDings beg to know more.

WingDings is an odd child, but seeing the eagerness to learn complicated math of all things is a current of fresh water to the sound engineers in the room. For fun they invite WingDings into the sound booth to record his voice which he eagerly participates in, sitting on Shyren’s lap. He sings the song she taught him and intently listens to the recording afterward. In all honesty he doesn’t like the electronic and unnatural sound of his voice, but Shyren enjoys it, encouraging him that she used to sing with a man with an electronic voice.

She doesn’t name the man, making WingDings wonder who this singer was.

As promised he is given new flavor’s of Lum Gum’s to enjoy and makes a point of saving his favorite flavor’s for a later day. The following day when Shyren returns to the studio to record some more, Shelly takes WingDings to a nearby children’s park with all sorts of fun equipment for young monsters and mer-folk to play with, some of which WingDings has never seen before. Instead of swings there is an apparatus designed like a spinning top on a thick pole, which after winding two seats up the poll, is released and spirals down to the sea floor. There are also slides and tube mazes for the kids to explore, along with teeter totters, a springy launcher apparatus and a spinning marry-go-round piece.

As Shelly settles on a bench she challenges WingDings to play with the other children, saying she’ll make him his favorite steamed meal if he does so. WingDings doesn’t much like her offer, but he does want to enjoy the playground so he agrees and eagerly tries out the launcher, knowing that such a toy in his world would never exist because . . . well . . . gravity. And lawsuits. This dangerous apparatus is ten times better than jumping off a swing at school. It works something like a drop ride at an amusement park, but instead of riding the seat up and then back down, WingDings pushes against the seat with his tail to see how high up he can slice through the water before floating back down.

As Shelly watches WingDings excessive use of the launcher she wonders how long it will take for the toy to be banned from all the playgrounds under the sea if the child in her care manages to find a way to launch himself up past the park perimeter. She isn’t even sure how he’s managing it with the water’s density pushing against him at such speeds.

While said child is working on beating his last record of distance on the launcher some of the children come up to him and ask if he wants to play hide-n-seek. WingDings is about to politely decline their offer when he notices Shelly pointedly looking at him, with her clam shell open. He wonders for a second if she heard and when she nods her head and waves a hand at him in the universal sign that says ‘go on’ he caves to the children’s request.

To the other children’s surprise he insists on being the seeker and counts to fifty, much to several children’s annoyance. After that he proceeds to find all of them, taking a short cut here and there when one of the more crafty children tries to change hiding places mid game. When he finds them all, he asks to be the seeker again, but none are having it so he is forced to hide. He hides in a fairly obvious place so when the sea urchin monster finds him he can help her find the others. While the others don’t really appreciate how easily he finds them, the ‘seeker’ takes full advantage of it.

By the time they start the fourth round the ‘seeker’ finds WingDings first so they can easily win the game and find everyone.

When it is time to leave Shelly calls his name and he eagerly takes her hand so they can return to the hotel. “Did you have a good time?” she asks as they travel. 

“Yes, can we come back tomorrow?” he asks, bobbing up and down as he swims beside her.

“We’ll have to check with Tenga and the schedule,” Shelly replies as they enter the hotel and make their way up to the room.

“I didn’t get the chance to see how far I could go on the launcher,” WingDings says with disappointment lacing his voice.

“I don’t think you were using it the way it was intended,” Shelly points out.

“Maybe,” WingDings says as he goes to his notebook. “Or I just made it better.”

“Improved,” Shelly suggests.

“Yes, improved,” he grins. “I improved it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More answers are coming out because WingDings no longer knows what’s secret and what isn’t and he is very comfortable now. I’d say more but life is busy, hope you all enjoy.


	9. The Cages we Make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemon Bread makes an appearance, but she doesn’t go by Lemon Bread in this story.

The day continues like the others and before long the week is over and Shyren is preforming her last concert in the New Harpert’s theater. WingDings wants to stay for the encore, but Shelly takes him back to the hotel so he can get some rest before they move to the next city.

Like his previous visit to the Teleportation Transport facility he is taken to a special unit by Tenga and is greeted by Shyren on the other side. Since he knows what to expect this time he isn’t nearly as worried or confused. When they exit the station WingDings gazes onto a city who’s main characteristic is seaweed, with towering thin structures doing their best to compete with their leafy counterparts.

“This is the city of Yobort,” Shelly tells him as they make their way to a waiting taxi. “It is known for it’s lush kelp forests, aquariums, and a zoo.”

“Aquariums?” WingDings asks in confusion. “A zoo? Underwater? With mammals, with legs?” How can that be a thing? How can they have lion, tigers, and bears underwater? A thrill of excitment beats in his tiny soul and even without being told more, his expectations for such a wonderful place soar.

“Yes,” Shelly says, a twinkle of amusement in her dark beady eyes.

‘We’ll visit one while we’re here,’ Shyren promises as they slide into the back seat of the taxi and Tenga puts a few of their things in the trunk.

“While I agree that such an experience will benefit young WingDings, might I suggest wearing disguises,” Tenga suggests as he slides into his seat. “We don’t want to cause a commotion or make things needlessly difficult for the zoo’s staff.” 

WingDings frowns and looks at Shyren, tilting his head as he tries to mentally construct a fitting disguise for her. He doesn’t see how it can work since, in his mind, she’ll always look like herself, no matter what she wears.

‘Good idea,’ Shyren tells her best friend. ‘I’m counting on you.’

Tenga nods his head, whipping out a notebook from his pocket and jotting down a note for himself.

WingDings still doesn’t think a disguise will work despite what Tenga says.

In the following days WingDings become excessively talkative, excited at the prospect of seeing wild legged animals underwater! The very idea is so interesting, he can’t stop asking Shelly how such a thing is possible. Logically he can understand how a fish tank works, you fill a large tank with water, very simple really, but how do you do that with air? How do they feed them? How do they get them under the water? How do they clean the tank?

When he asks Shelly about how the animals get air, she gives him a playful smile and tells him, “You’ll find out when we get there.”

The questions come at Shelly non-stop, but she is brimming with answers that can appease him and is overflowing with patience. She’s slowly becoming more than a tutor, but a caretaker to WingDings. A nanny, who specializes in having a seemingly infinite amount of knowledge trapped tight in her clam shell. When the day of the trip to the zoo arrives, there second day of being in Yobort, WingDings is practically dragging Shyren towards the entrance, no longer struggling to swim correctly.

When he see’s the large number of protesters out front though his eagerness plummets and is replaced with rigid concern and cautious curiosity. He didn’t realize until they reached the zoo, that the facility is located near the mainland, which makes for a prim protesting location. He can’t read their signs as he passes them, but they encourage those going to the zoo that land isn’t bad and that their should be more places around like this zoo.

“Is the zoo closing?” WingDings asks, easily coming to this conclusion with the protesters making it sound like the Empress doesn’t approve of the zoo because it has land mammals.

‘No it isn’t,’ Shyren assures him. She is wearing a black wig, with dark sunglasses, and a flowing robe like garment. The look is strange and isn’t her at all, which is one of the reasons it’s so effective ‘It’s just been under a lot of scrutiny from the empress.’

“That’s too bad,” he says as Tenga pays for their tickets. In comparison to Shyren’s disguise, Tenga’s is lazy. The only difference for him being sunglasses and a plaid bow tie.

WingDings and Shelly aren’t wearing disguises at all since their is no need, but with WingDings insistence, Tenga allows him to come wearing a black beanie on his head. It arguable isn’t enough to qualify as a disguise, but it is enough to pacify the child since it matches Shyren’s dark haired wig.

As they make their way up through a tunnel inside the building, the shouts of the protesters disappears and is replaced with calm music and a voice recording encouraging them to come inside and enjoy the ‘wonders of the earth.’ WingDings zooms up to the first glass window where colorful flamingo’s lounge in a shallow pond, along with ducks, and other small waterfowl. Looking up through the cage he glances past the rim of the building and is baffled to see open sky. Immediately he wants an explanation. He pushes his face off the glass and points at the sky. “Why is there sky?” he asks the three adults.

“Because we’re above sea level,” Shelly explains. “It’s difficult to pump air deep underwater, but much easier to contain water on land.”

“Ohhh,” WingDings turns back towards the glass, glancing up at the sky almost as much as the flamingo’s. This is the first time he’s seen the sky in over a month and it makes him feel funny looking at it. “So we’re the ones in the cage?”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Tenga musses. “But the animals are still very much caged WingDings.”

“Hmm,” WingDings presses his lips and doesn’t say anything, seemingly looking at the animals, but not really seeing them. Lost in thought. Just when Shyren is about to ask if something is bothering him WingDings wakes from his scattered thoughts and notices the next cage to their right which houses meerkats.

He remembers seeing these animals from another trip to the zoo back in preschool and makes towards it, taking Shyren’s hand and pulling her along with him. “These ones don’t smell,” WingDings laughs, pointing at the funny long rodents and grinning up at the singer.

‘Smell?’ she signs.

“Yeah, normally they smell bad,” he laughs.

“You’ve seen them before?” she is surprised.

“Yes,” he gladly answers and makes his way for the next cage.

It becomes more apparent to the adults that the thing that fascinates WingDings the most is not the animals, but the way in which they are kept and how they are able to swim up to each cage. They do not understand how WingDings has been able to see such animals before, such a thing should be impossible, since their are only a handful of zoo’s for mer-folk that exist in the sea.

“You know a lot about animals,” Shelly breaches the subject when they’re nearing the end of their visit, looking at the largest animals kept at the zoo, the giraffes and elephants.

“No I don’t,” WingDings corrects her, knowing there has to be more about animals he doesn’t know since he’s learned so much today.

“But you’ve seen them before,” Tenga says, keeping at it. “That is very unusual for most mer-folk.”

“Really?” WingDings looks from the giraffe, to Tenga, pondering why most wouldn’t be able to come to the zoo. “Does it cost a lot of money?”

‘No, they’re just aren’t very many places to see animals like this,’ Shyren signs to him.

“. . . Oh,” WingDings answers lamely.

“You came from the surface didn’t you?” Shelly asks. “It is the most likely explanation. You are an honest child so you must have seen these animals before, but you are unfamiliar with how a mer-folk zoo operates. Therefore you must be from the surface.”

“Yes,” WingDings looks down at the floor, pulling his hands behind his back. He doesn’t know what to do, but the need to fight or flee is tugging hard at him. After all this time he’s done a good job keeping his full story a secret, like his brothers wanted. At least HE thinks he’s been doing a good job and he thinks this is what his brothers wanted, but now that his caretakers are figuring out the truth without his meaning too, what is he suppose to do?

He doesn't know. He can’t just find another family. He doesn’t know how to live out on his own. He’s five! He learned that lesson the hard way when thinking he could find the pieces of his soul on his own. He’ll never do that again.

“So your family is from the surface,” Tenga weaves his fins across his chest looking down at the tense child in bafflement. “But you are skeleton-fish, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“We’re you a pet?” Shelly asks, thinking it’s the most logical explanation.

“No!” WingDings spits, backing up and leaning again the glass, scrunching his body up.

Shyren puts a hand up before the other two can ask another question. Lowering herself Shyren opens her arms to WingDings. “Don’t worry, we aren’t getting rid of you,” she sings to him. “We promised to take care of you, remember.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” WingDings says softly.

“You don’t have to go anywhere else,” she says and this is enough to propel the child into her arms. She holds onto him, hugging him tight, and moves towards the exit. They’ve had enough excitement at the zoo.

By the time they make it to the hotel WingDings has calmed down and is chatting about all the amazing animals and what he learned that day. As he chats with Shelly in the main living space, Tenga and Shyren speak with one another in hushed voices.

“Now I know one reason the RGD hasn’t gotten back to us yet,” Tenga remarks as he watches WingDings challenge Shelly to a math dual. “He doesn’t have a family under the sea.”

‘We are his family,’ Shyren corrects him. ‘But I’m worried.’

“Why is that?” Tenga asks. “I see no reason to be concern of his leaving us. If he has no family of which to return to then we will have no reason to loss him.”

‘But he’s from the surface, what if the RGD finds out?’ Shyren asks.

“Then Empress Undyne will have more fuel to add to her hatred of those of the land, but that is no reason to take the child away,” Tenga assures her.

‘I suppose not,’ Shyren signs. ‘But, I still have this feeling Tenga, that I’ll have to say goodbye soon. It’s as if . . .’ She looks up at her dear friend and puts a hand to his shoulder. ‘He isn’t mine to keep.’ Putting on a smile she swims into the common area and joins the two in their math game. 

Despite her grin Tenga recognizes the ever wary sag of concern. He hates seeing her like that, but knows that there is nothing he can do to alleviate it, especially if what she says turns out to be true. Eventually her smile becomes more genuine as she plays with WingDings and by the time she’s singing at the theater she appears to be her usual self.

WingDings has another nightmare that night and Shyren is right there to help him through it. Giving him a Lum-Gum and singing him a lullaby. She decides that she will enjoy the time she has with him, however much time that is. She will play her part.

Aside from the rise in protests and the big reveal of WingDings coming from the surface their stay in Yobort is overall uneventful.

After Shyren’s final concert, they head to the city of Gauthab the following day, known for their heated geysers, or hydrothermal vents as Shelly corrects WingDings. Unlike the hotels they’ve stayed the last three weeks this time they are staying in a home with Shyren’s younger sister Triller.

“Be on your best behavior WingDings,” Tenga tells the child as they make their way through the town. From what WingDings can see this city isn’t nearly as big as the others he’s been to. The most impressive thing about the place is the mountainous landscape in the distance with it’s distorted waves ascending from numerous heated fissures.

“I will,” WingDings easily promises.

“Now WingDings Miss Triller is a fragile monster and is often ill,” Tenga’s voice becomes softer, which is enough to grab WingDings attention from his immediate surroundings. “No loud noises or moving too quickly.”

“Yes, sir,” WingDings nods dutifully, but hopes it won’t be too dull a place. Homes from sick people often smell funny, like they’ve dropped a bottle of perfume and bleach and rubbed it on everything. He knows this isn’t their fault, but for a child it’s a recipe for discomfort.

“Good,” Tenga nods.

‘She isn’t sick at the moment,’ Shyren adds. ‘She also has a piano and loves music just like me.’

This perks WingDings up again and he returns to his perch at the window to see the rest of the town. Passing main street and into a neighborhood, or as Tenga refers to it as a ‘colony.’ Apparently their is no such thing as neighborhoods under the sea, although it is still possible to have neighbors. Instead of neighborhoods, a settlement is typically referred to as a ‘colony’ or ‘clusters’. It isn’t something WingDings is used to hearing, but he eagerly takes in the information as they near a pink coral home growing out of an enormous rock.

When they reach the door Shyren encourages WingDings to use the decorative door knocker that looks like woven seaweed curling in a circular design. After knocking gently, there is a bubbled cry of delight from inside before the door opens revealing a violet colored humanoid fish monster, with dark eyes and long blue hair like her sister.

‘Shyren!’ she signs with swift excitement, swooping forward to hug her sister.

‘Triller,’ Shyren giggles, bubbles popping for her mouth and gills.

‘And Tenga, how are you doing?’ Triller greets the next monster she recognizes, giving him a loving hug.

“Always a pleasure Miss Triller,” he says, returning her hug softly.

‘And you must be WingDings,’ Triller signs, leaning forward to say hello.

The child bows his head and offers her his hand to shake which she accepts in delight.

‘And you must be the outstanding tutor and nanny Miss Shelly Clammer,’ Triller says, giving the clam girl a welcoming handshake.

“Salutation,” the woman says, gladly accepting her hand in her own. She then turns to WingDings and explains. “Salutation, a gesture or utterance made as a greeting or acknowledgment of another’s arrival or departure.”

‘Should I be the one saying ‘Salutation’ since your the one arriving to my home, Miss Clamer’ Triller corrects the woman with a playful grin.

“I stand corrected,” Shelly smiles back. “Shelly is just fine.”

‘Splendid, please do come in,’ she motions for them to follow her into the home. ‘Your helpers delivered most of your things earlier today, but I went ahead and got started on some of your laundry.’

‘Thank you Triller,’ Shyren says at her side. ‘You didn’t have to, but I suppose I wouldn’t be able to stop you.’ She lowers her head shyly, smiling as she slides some of her tentacle hair to the side.

‘That’s right you wouldn’t,’ Triller eagerly agrees, before wrapping a hand around her sisters shoulder and kissing her on the cheek. The women giggle and make their way into the living area until Triller swiftly turns and waves her hands in the air. ‘Oh I nearly forgot to show you your rooms.’

She motions for Tenga, who is carrying the last of the luggage, to follow her down the hall and into the rooms. He is sharing a room with Tenga again while Shelly and Shyren will share the master bedroom with Triller. WingDings is a little nervous at the darkness in the room since there is no window, but Tenga is prepared with a little nightlight for him.

So there is no need to be concerned.

From there Shyren and Triller settle into the living area where they chat endlessly about life and the music tour. As they chat WingDings works on a jigsaw-puzzle with Shelly, while Tenga makes them all something to eat. At some point Shyren gives Triller her new album as a gift, something that hasn’t even been released yet to the public. Triller eagerly puts it into her jukebox machine and they all get to enjoy the new Shyren songs.

Every once in a while the women will stop chatting long enough to sing a portion of one of the songs. WingDings wants to join them, but Shelly encourages him not to, suggesting to him that this is a special moment just for the sisters. Although he doesn’t understand what she means WingDings manages to stay silent, but his wiggly tail shows just how much the five year old wants to be the center of attention.

It takes a lot of distraction from Shelly to keep WingDings placated, but Shyren gets a lot of extra time with Triller thanks to her intervention. During the following days WingDings spends most of his time with Shelly and Triller, doing his school work, playing on the piano and chatting endlessly with the women. One day Triller brings out a photo album and shares it with WingDings.

Inside are pictures of her with Shyren and Tenga, along with other friends and members of their family. WingDings is fascinated to see several children included in the plastic sealed pages and Triller explains that these are all the children Shyren took in until they grew up or found their families. They sit there for hours with WingDings listening to Triller attentively.

“I don’t have a family,” WingDings tells her, his hands and fingers swinging hesitantly. “But Shyren told me I could stay with her’s.”

‘I’m sure she meant it,’ Triller encourages him. ‘She’s always had a fondness for singing and children. I think it’s because our parents died when we were very young. Shyren practically raised me.’

“She did?” WingDings is reminded of his own brothers raising him.

“MmHmm,” she hums before continuing to sign. ‘It was hard living on our own, especially at that time with the war on land folk, but there were some good monsters who looked out for us. She looks up to them and I admire her for continuing to do what she believes in despite her shy nature.’

‘I think she’s brave,’ WingDings signs, easily falling naturally into sign-language since it is his first language. ‘. . . I’ve never had a mother before, but I think that’s what she is.’

Triller’s smile grows so large it illuminates the room. ‘I think so too.’

‘We should add a new picture to your album when they get back,’ WingDings suggests happily.

‘A great idea,’ Triller snaps her fingers. ‘I’ll try to take lots of pictures while you’re here.’

When Shyren and Tenga arrive before dinner, Shyren joins them on the cushions and adds some stories of her own as they finish up the album they’re working on. Before they get ready for dinner and the concert that night Shelly takes a picture of all of them together.

It is the first of many pictures, some taken with just Shelly, Triller and WingDings when Tenga and Shyren are away while others include the sisters with WingDings playfully putting himself in the pictures at the last minute. There are some days where Triller spends a lot of time in bed, but whenever she’s up she makes a point to spend time with the five year old, continuing to teach him some notes on the piano in her sister’s absence.

When it’s time to leave everyone is a little sad and WingDings once again struggles with saying goodbye to someone. He might never get to see her again. He doesn't even think she’s around in his world.

This gets him to thinking that he’ll have to say goodbye to Shyren, Tenga and Shelly someday. He doesn’t know when he’ll find the piece of his soul, since he hasn’t been actively looking for it, but someday he’ll find it. And it isn’t like he doesn’t want to return home to his brothers. These thoughts leave WingDings feeling confused and lost in his thoughts, something the adults haven't seen from him since the zoo or perhaps the first time they took him into their home.

Like before they don’t press him, knowing that whatever is bothering him will come out sooner rather than later.

The next city they visit is called Avinshire, which is known for their advances in under water technology and magic innovations. Instead of the buildings being made of coral and other natural or live materials, they are built of fiberglass, concrete, and other man made substances. WingDings also notices that their are even more protesters around, but he doesn’t think anything of it, used to their constant presence and still fixated on his dilemma of saying goodbye to his caretakers.

As WingDings makes his way with Shelly to the theater, a particularly rowdy gathering of protesters are shouting in front of the theater.

“Are there more protesters?” WingDings asks his nanny, who stops at the sight of such a large mass of scales stationed at the front of the theater.

“It appears so,” Shelly sighs. “Ever since Shyren’s interview they’ve enjoyed congregating in front of wherever she’s preforming.”

“Did she do something wrong?” WingDings asks.

“No, she did the right thing,” Shelly says, squeezing his hand before looking around for another point of entry. “She spoke the truth in a respectful way.”

The word ‘truth’ sticks out to WingDings and he is again reminded of his dilemma. Maybe he should tell them the truth about where he’s from. Tenga said that it was all right to take his time, but maybe now is the time. Pressing his lips together, WingDings brows drop low across his eyes, deep in thought. He is a little startled, when Shelly makes towards an alley.

“Perhaps they will let us in the side door,” Shelly tells him, smiling down at him and walking confidently towards the side street as he swims beside her. The nannies confidence is enough to assure the child, but when the cry and clash of armor pours out of the tiny street his fear returns.

Kneeling down, Shelly holds WingDings close as a large assembly of guards swarms out of the side streets and descends on the unsuspecting protesters. Shelly does her best to cover WingDings face as the large force of guards forms a perimeter on the entire city block. Shaking with anxiety WingDings clutches Shelly tightly as the cries of civilians and guards bombard him.

Instead of seeing Shelly’s blouse, he sees a wall of bones, cold snow, and the clash of swords echo in his mind.

All of these things are imagined, expect for the wall of bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, but hopefully it isn’t too tedious. I had fun writing the zoo scene and putting myself in these adults position as they get more pieces to WingDings puzzle. Shyren has more patience than I ever will. Sorry about the slight cliff hanger, I say slight cliff hanger since you only have to wait a week to see what happens next.


	10. The Whole Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth will set you free and look another skeleton.

“Civilian this way! It isn’t safe here!” a familiar voice easily bellows over the crowd. A large gloved hand reaches down and pulls Shelly up, helping her into the alley she’d been attempting to shuffle to before the burst of guards flowed from it like a flow of water from a faucet.

“Thank you sir,” Shelly says stiffly as he continues swim with her away from the fight. She continues to clutch WingDings to her chest, who is lost in another time, until he hears the guard speak again.

“You are quite welcome, the great Papyrus will always protect helpless civilians,” he declares, continuing to guide Shelly towards the theater, keeping close to the ground as to avoid the fighting above them and the mass of those attempting to flee the terrifying scene. “I apologize that you were caught in my strategic pincer maneuver,” The skeleton fish looks down at WingDings who is looking up at him in awe and shock. “Hello Baby Bones.”

Papyrus is wearing armor on his chest, hips and shoulders, with long strips of red and yellow cloth woven around his bones. Some of the loose pieces of clothe flutter behind him in the current as if there were a wind pulling gallantly at a hero’s cape.

“Hello,” WingDings buzzes, still too shocked to say anything else as he looks at Papyrus with enormous eye lights. It’s his brother. His brother is right there! But it isn’t him. His soul whirls around in his rib cage, humming in confusion and a strong desire to hug this stranger.

“In awe of my person I see,” Papyrus puts a hand to his armored chest, smiling proudly. “I was told to be on the look out for a nanny and baby bones when we started. If I’d known your exact location I would have waited before moving the guards into action.” They stop at the side door of the theater and Papyrus bows his head to Shelly and WingDings. “For that I apologize. I was hoping to disband the protesters before your arrival. The Great Papyrus promises to learn from his mistake and be more vigilant in the future!”

Shelly loosens her grip on WingDings and stares at Papyrus’s bowed head, but she doesn’t say anything. Her stare becomes a glare and WingDings has the impression that she is not willing to forgive this skeleton merman.

“Even great people make mistakes,” WingDings says easily, catching Shelly and Papyrus off guard. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to.” He hasn’t seen Papyrus apologize very often, making it very easy to forgive him. That and it’s his brother. His brother from another world.

“That is right Baby Bones,” Papyrus reaches a hand forward and WingDings shakes it with a smile. “A mistake I will do my best not to repeat.”

Shifting WingDings in her arms, Shelly tries to smile at Papyrus, but she remains silent.

Aware of Shelly’s judgmental eyes, Papyrus awkwardly turns to the door and shouts near the top of his lungs. “This is Captain Papyrus of the Royal Guard, I have come with Nanny Shelly and Child WingDings, please open the door!”

Immediately the door opens revealing another guard and Shyren. As soon as she sees Shelly and WingDings, she swims forward and hugs them both, planting a soft kiss on WingDings skull.

“Thank you for finding them Captain,” Tenga says more rigidly than normal as Shelly, Shyren and WingDings make their way inside.

WingDings hears Papyrus shout, “Just doing my royal duty,” before he is out of earshot.

“Is the concert canceled?” WingDings asks as they move into her new dressing room.

‘Only delayed,’ Shyren replies, sitting at the vanity and letting the artists finish what they started.

“But what about the people outside . . .” WingDings asks. “Are they okay?”

‘Captain Papyrus is swift and just,’ Shyren assures him. ‘Out of all the captains in the royal guard I’m sure he’ll be merciful to the protesters.’

‘Okay,’ WingDings signs and settles on sitting in Shelly’s lap as they wait, still feeling the thrum of anxiety tickling his bones along with a deep loneliness at Papyrus’s quick appearance. It isn’t until the concert starts and he hears Shyren’s voice that he calms completely.

When he wakes from a nightmare that night Shyren is there to help him, ready with a song and his favorite Lum-Gum. “There isn’t going to be a war is there?” WingDings asks nestled beside her as they sit on the cushions in the living space.

‘No, there isn’t,’ she tells him, wrapping an arm around him as he stares forward at nothing in particular.

“I don’t like wars,” WingDings says. “I don’t like seeing people fight.”

‘You’ve seen it before?’ Shyren asks.

“I heard it,” WingDings whispers, his hands signing in short small movement. “Astor put up a wall of bones before I could see anything. I still remember though.”

‘Is Astor your family from the surface?’ Shyren asks, gently rubbing his humerus and shoulder blade.

“For a little while,” WingDings answers. “I . . .” He looks up at her wondering if he should tell her. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants this uncomfortable feeling to go away. “They were my family the last time. They took care of me before I could go home.”

Shyren looks down at the child with her one visible eye, confused, but refusing to pressure the boy and ask him to elaborate. She doesn’t have to ask though as WingDings can no longer keep his secret to himself. “I’m from another world,” he softly confesses. He is ready now. He is ready to talk about it.

If not for his hands lazily signing as he speaks she might have missed his words. ‘Another world?’ she asks. At first she thinks he’s been traumatized, but it actually makes sense. If he’d been from the surface of their world then surely he would have known about the contention between land and sea.

WingDings nods his head, a trickle of bubbles moving up at the gentle movement. “My brother’s mentions it being dangerous to tell people, that no one would believe me,” his words buzz as he speaks, but his hands manage to remain fluent. “I never told my skeleton family, but Doctor Astor figured it out. I’m not good at keeping secrets.” He lowers his head in defeat.

‘That’s a big secret for a five year old, for anyone,’ Shyren tells him.

“That’s only part of my secret,” WingDings admits.

Shyren is unable to keep her eye from going wide at the thought of just how big this secret can possibly get.

“I’ll have to say goodbye and you’ve been so nice to me, Shelly and Tenga too,” he blabbers on. “But I want to go home. I miss my brothers.”

“WingDings,” Shyren turns him around, sliding him into her lap. “I don’t really understand all these things you’re telling me, but if you want to return to your family, I will help you. I want you to be where you belong.”

For a second or two WingDings simply stares at Shyren and she begins to wonder if perhaps he needs more assurance until his thoughts come to their conclusion and he tightly wraps his arms around her in a hug. “I love you,” he says.

Smiling softly, Shyren returns the hug as tiny bubbles gently stream up from her eyes. ‘I love you too,’ she says.

The warmth her embrace gives WingDings is enough to banish his confusion and doubts instantly and he eagerly nestles against her before drifting to sleep.

In the morning Shyren asks WingDings for permission to tell Tenga what he told her earlier, telling him that she trusts Tenga’s judgment and needs his advice. WingDings agrees, going so far as to include Shelly since he trusts her too. He doesn’t know what his brothers would say if they knew he’d told others his secret, but they aren’t here right now. All he has is Shyren, Tenga and Shelly.

“Mister WingDings I have a few questions I’d like to ask you and I’d appreciate honest answers,” Tenga tells him after they’ve eaten lunch. Because of the protesters the previous day, Tenga and Shyren have decided to stay at the hotel today, instead of mingling with the populace. The last thing they want is to cause more turbulence in the hurting city.

“Yes, Mister Tenga,” WingDings pulls his hands behind his back and smiles up at the fish man. The child feels much better after telling Shyren the truth, the uncomfortable and confusing weight of his responsibility successfully lifted from his soul.

“You told Shyren that you wish to return home and she promised to help you do so,” Tenga continues. “In addition I promise to assist her and you in this endeavour.”

“You’re using some big words again,” WingDings lifts a brow at the man, although his smile remains.

“You have little trouble understanding me despite this as long as I’ve known you so I see no reason to change that now,” Tenga almost grins back, but again it could always be a trick of the light. “Now where do you live.”

“In another time and space,” WingDings answers, swaying his hips forward and back.

“And how do you get back to this ‘time and space,’ the fish laces his arms over his chest, lifting a brow.

WingDings giggles, finding the mans serious way of saying ‘time and space’ a little funny. It is hard to imagine that there was a time he was intimidated by the agents serious demeanor. “By finding a piece of my soul,” WingDings says. “It’s somewhere on the planet. Last time Frisk found it for me, but I haven’t seen her.”

While WingDings straight forward answer is appreciated it does little to clarify Tenga’s question, having only heard about the ‘pieces of his soul’ one time and not to mention never hearing the name Frisk before. “I thought those little white pieces in your soul were your monster soul,” Tenga begins with what he knows.

“I have more pieces,” WingDings replies. “I can feel when one is close by and when I put it back in my soul I can go back home.”

“Have you felt this piece yet?” Tenga asks.

“Nope,” WingDings shakes his head and pops the ‘p’ for fun and because he knows it irritates Tenga.

Grumbling Tenga rubs his head with one of his fins as if trying to massage a coming migraine. “Well it seem Shyren’s tour around the entire ocean is to your benefit, young WingDings,” he finally says. “And seeing as the planet is over seventy percent water we are bound to find it eventually. If not we’ll simply extend the music tour to other cities. Now, I’m going to search the city and see if I can purchase a world map.” He sighs, but before WingDings can fancy the thought that perhaps he has upset Tenga, the fish pats his head as he passes by, reaffirming to the boy that everything is going to be okay and that in his own strange way loves him.

With his secret out WingDings is a much happier skeleton fish with his only troubles coming in the form of his reading assignments and the protesters. He isn’t even afraid of the protesters, just the idea of them being hurt by the guards. Thinking of the guards negatively leaves WingDings conflicted, especially considering one of them is Papyrus. They are able to avoid any troubles with the protesters by leaving earlier for the theater. That way if the guard is called they don’t have to witness the conflict.

For the next four weeks they travel from city to city with Shyren happily singing her songs and WingDings keeping Shelly company, depending on your perspective. Every time they enter a new city Tenga asks the child if he can sense a piece of his soul and each and ever time WingDings answers with a definitive ‘no’, much to the elders irritation.

One day, while constructing an equation he’s sure will baffle Shelly, their hotels phone rings which doesn’t typically happen. The adults will often make calls out, but rarely do they receive calls in. “Hello, who is calling?” Tenga speaks in his typical bored and irritated manner. WingDings likes to think of it as a voice that says ‘make it quick and if you don’t I’ll make your life miserable,’ without even needing to say those words. It’s really efficient.

Tenga’s slanted eyes narrow, as he straightens his body and places one fin over his chest while he clutches the phone piece. “I am unsure whether to be pleased to hear that you are still alive or angry that it has taken you this long to return my calls,” Tenga responds to the unfortunate person on the other end.

Turning his attention along with his body around, WingDings listens to half of the conversation taking place in the kitchenette.

As WingDings interests turn towards him, Tenga glances back at the child, but instead of lowering his voice or turning away the fish doesn’t bother disguising the call. “The child actually informed us already that he has no living members in his family, and I am not surprised to learn that his DNA had a match to the late W.D. Gaster,” Tenga says before pausing to hear what the person has to add.

“Yes didn’t you hear me, the child has no living members in his family, everyone under the sea knows this,” Tenga grunts. “I just saved you another two months work attempting to pretend and find any living members of the Gaster family line.”

There is a prattle of words on the other end of the phone and Tenga looks just about ready to smash the phone back on the receiver. “Yes, you can count on Shyren and I to continue caring for the child in question until your supervisor’s stop pretending to be working on helping this boy, good day, thank you for bravely calling me,” Tenga hangs up, shaking his head and making his way into the living area.

“Assuming you did not lie to us child about your coming from another world, how is it that you’re DNA actually matches the relative I suspect you were related to from the beginning,” Tenga asks WingDings.

“W.D. Gaster?” WingDings asks in order to clarify.

“Yes, the very skeleton,” Tenga says.

“Well, I guess it’s because he’s me from this world,” WingDings muses, thinking of Doctor Astor and how they were basically the same person, only Astor was a weird doctor teenager with no holes in his hands.

“He’s you? Not your father?” Tenga asks.

“Yes!” WingDings says eagerly.

“Alternate dimensions?” Shelly suggests.

“That isn’t scientific,” Tenga informs her moodily.

In response Shelly merely flips her hand over, palm up, gesturing to WingDings. “I do not think he is lying,” Shelly replies, earning a grumble from Tenga. “And the DNA test did match.”

WingDings smiles, swaying back and forth as if he’s gotten away with something mischievous for being the same person as the famous W.D. Gaster. “That took the RGD a long time,” he comments.

“It certainly did,” Tenga grunts and makes his way to Shyren’s bedroom. “I will inform Shyren, continue with your studies.”

When he disappears, WingDings finds himself distracted from his lengthy math problem and turns his attention to Shelly. “Tenga told me once that W.D. Gaster is the reason the Empress hates land-folk,” he says. He’s been trying to figure out the connection for months now, but he still doesn’t understand it. “I also know he is dead and was important to the royal family.”

“He was the royal adviser to the royal family,” Shelly answers him clearly. “I’m sorry you don’t know more about him, but the topic of his being is somewhat taboo. You see he was a very influential man and raised the current Empress Undyne, when her parents were killed in the war with land. Gaster was able to end the war and initiate peace so the baby Undyne wouldn’t have to worry about it growing up. Sadly, during a friendly meeting on land five years ago Gaster died mysterious. The land-folk swear they didn’t kill him, but the Empress blames them nonetheless. Since the land-folk were the cause of her parents death, the added loss of her foster father drove her to hate those of the land.”

“Wow,” WingDings doesn’t really know what an adviser is, but he does understand the significance in raising an orphan and why Undyne is upset. Although he does think it’s extreme of her to blame the land when apparently there is no proof. “He sounds amazing!” WingDings chooses to say. After all, it’s nice knowing that his counterparts are so cool. Although he is sad that this WingDings is dead. He would have liked to have met him.

“He was an amazing skeleton,” Shelly gladly agrees. “Now are you finished constructing your equation or shall I be declared the victor?”

Filled with determination, WingDings returns his attention to his complicated math problem, hoping to best Shelly with his genius.

He doesn’t, but she rewards his efforts with a Lum Gum.

The following week they arrive in the second largest city under the sea, the Capital city named Neptune. Now it isn’t the towering spire of white or the colorful corals and glowing plants that gets WingDings attention. No, it’s the familiar tug of the wandering piece of his soul.

Without any explanation and before Tenga has the chance to even ask, WingDings declares his discovery for all to hear in the Transportation Building. “It’s here!” he shouts, shaking Shyren’s hand up and down in excitement before attempting to drag her out the door.

She doesn’t let him, but does smile nonetheless at the sight of his exhilaration. When they travel in the taxi to the hotel WingDings barely notices the impressive Auger spires and giant conk shells that are large colorful version of their tiny counterparts. Instead he tries to pinpoint the direction of his soul within the moving vehicle.

Since Shyren is feeling rather ill after the trip, she stays in the hotel room with Shelly while Tenga takes WingDings out again in a taxi. The orange taxi driver fish who is wearing a blue shirt with a orange fish on it has quite the time trying to follow WingDings erratic directions.

“Turn on this street,” WingDings says from the passenger seat. “Now turn here, oh it’s a dead end . . . can you go over the building?”

Needless to say the driver is quite the trooper and gets a large sum of money from Tenga when they find themselves at the green iron bars of the royal guard house, with a flickering iridescent magic shield sparkling around the glowing ethereal palace beyond. Apparently the piece of his soul is in the palace, which immediately causes WingDings to deflate.

With his small hand wrapped around the iron green rods of the metal fence, WingDings glares at the impressive sea palace before sheepishly looking up at Tenga. “Shyren wouldn’t happen to be preforming in the castle would she?” he asks optimistically.

“I’m afraid not,” Tenga laments in his typical fashion, which doesn’t look much different than his happy face or any other face he makes.

Sinking a bit, WingDings presses his head against the bars and glares once more at the disgustingly impressive castle.

“I’ll see if I can pull some strings and grant us an audience,” Tenga encourages the child. “I can be very determined when I put my mind to it.” This encouragement does the trick and WingDings pries his fingers from the bars and tackles Tenga with a hug.

“I’m sure you can,” WingDings agrees and from there the two leave in a taxi ride that doesn’t last nearly as long as it did the first time.

When they arrive at the hotel WingDings darts up to the women while Tenga picks up the phone and begins the arduous process of trying to contact the right people at the palace.

“We know where it is!” WingDings shouts in excitement.

Shyren winces a little and Tenga shoots WingDings a glare at his loud declaration, but they can hardly fault the boy for his excitement. ‘Please keep your voice down,’ Shyren asks him.

‘Sorry,’ WingDings signs before launching into the rest of his story with his hands darting swiftly in front of him. ‘We took a Taxi all the way to the palace,’ he explains. ‘It was fun messing with the driver, but he was really good at listening to me. When we got to the palace I could feel it in my soul that it was close by, but there is a shield and bars around the palace. Tenga said he’d try to get us inside.’

When WingDings is finished, Shyren smiles calmly at the child, while Shelly makes a point of looking at the singer instead. ‘I’m glad you know where it is,’ Shyren says. ‘Perhaps I can give the empress a private concert.’

WingDings eyes go wide. ‘You would do that? But . . .’ His hand signs get a little smaller as if he’s whisper the words. ‘I thought you didn’t like her.’

‘I don’t approve of her recent decision, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like her,’ Shyren answers honestly. ‘She is a very strong and passionate woman, who cares about her people. . . her focus on who she is suppose to protect them from recently is simply misguided.’

‘Thank you Shyren!’ WingDings hugs her, his tail waving back and forth in happiness.

“We haven’t gotten into the palace yet, WingDings,” Shyren reminds him softly, using her voice since he can’t see her hands while he’s hugging her so tightly.

“Undyne can’t say no to you,” WingDings declares, gaining a giggle and blush from Shyren and a hum of amusement from Shelly.

“You sound so confident in me,” Shyren says her voice warbling in and out like the currents of the sea.

“That’s because you’re great,” he says leaning back. He’d almost claim she is as great as the great Papyrus, but while she might be possibly greater than the Papyrus of this world no one can be as great as his brother’s. “And Tenga won’t stop till he gets his way.”

“Thank you WingDings,” Shyren laughs and gives him a hug which WingDings is happy to return. “And your right about Tenga.”

“Do you think they’ll let WingDings wander the palace in search of the piece?” Shelly asks. While she enjoys the touching scene, she is also thinking ahead and looking at the situation logically.

‘Perhaps if we explain the situation . . .’ Shyren begins, but stops when she notices WingDings stiffen in her arms.

‘Do we have to tell them why?’ WingDings asks, curling his fingers as he slowly pulls away from his guardian.

‘We might have too,’ Shyren tells him, her eye drooping in concern, imploring him to stay strong without telling him outright.

‘But the Empress doesn’t seem like a good person,’ WingDings states flatly. When Shyren tilts her head in a fashion meant to make him rethink his words the child amends his statement a little. ‘. . . at the moment.’

‘Please don’t say that WingDings, she isn’t bad,’ Shyren signs slowly, showing enough hesitancy to make the child feel doubtful of her statement.

Pulling his tail up, he grabs his arms around the thicker bones as he sits back on his jelly cushion, pouting.

‘Would getting into the palace be close enough?’ Shyren ask hopefully.

‘No,’ WingDings admits and sighs. ‘Guess it wouldn’t matter. As soon as I have the piece of my soul I can go home.’

‘. . . That’s right,’ Shyren says, becoming thoughtful. When WingDings leaves the empress will surely have questions, but will she accept the answers? Shyren isn’t sure what she’ll do, but this won’t stop her from helping her unique charge.

Thinking he’s said something wrong when Shyren becomes quiet and withdrawn, WingDings moves a little closer to her again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says.

‘For what?’ Shyren is shaken from her thoughts and carefully takes one of WingDings hands into her own as she leans her head towards him.

“Leaving,” he says.

‘Don’t be,’ she rubs his smooth skull with one hand while continuing to sign with the other. ‘I will miss you a lot, but you should be with your family.’

‘I will miss you too,’ WingDings says, he hugs her again before tuning to hug Shelly next, who is unprepared for it, but accepts it as gracefully as she can. “You too Nanny Shelly.”

“I will miss you as well,” she returns the hug. “Along with your peculiar intellect and surreptitious mischief.”

WingDings looks up and behind them to see Tenga looking down at them as stiff as usual. Apparently the Agent’s phone call is finally over which gives WingDings the opportunity to check off the next person on his list list of people he’ll miss. “And I’ll even miss you Mister Tenga,” he pushes himself up and hugs Tenga’s tail.

“Consider the feeling returned,” Tenga replies and gives a tiny smile. “I will miss you too.”

“What did they say?” WingDings asks.

“They said they’d get back to us before the end of the week,” Tenga says, pulling his arms around his front. “Let us hope they aren’t like the other factions of the RGD when it comes to returning phone calls.”

The other three show varying amounts of disappointment, with Shyren trying to smile but sagging forward. They all know the odds are not in their favor when it comes to receiving a timely phone call from the RGD.

“Which is why I’ll be calling them everyday to remind them,” Tenga’s small grins becomes creased with mischief before he turns towards his room. “Let’s eat out tonight to celebrate, I’ll get our disguises.”

Eating out is a treat, so WingDings jumps up faster than a spooked eel from it’s den and swims after Tenga in a rush, naming suggestions of places they can eat at. They end up going to a buffet, Tenga citing that it brings everything full circle in WingDings stay with them.

                                                                                              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Papyrus! He finally makes his appearance. A very small appearance. He has a bigger role in other stories, but the focus of this one is Shyren, Agent and Clam Girl.
> 
> Close to the ending now, unless I get distracted and decide to write more for this. As of this moment I haven’t actually written an ending I’m pleased with. We’ll see what happens. Thanks for reading as always and enjoy the sketchy sketch of Papyrus.


	11. The First Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hail Empress Undyne.

As the week drags on WingDings can be found waiting near the phone when they are at the hotel and hanging on Tenga’s every word when the grumpy man makes his daily call to the palace. The closer Shyren’s last performance comes the more antsy WingDings is. He eats less and becomes easily frustrated when working on his academics with Shelly.

It isn’t until early Friday morning that they receive the coveted phone call from the palace. Zipping up to the counter, WingDings drapes himself across the smooth countertop as Tenga picks the phone up off the receiver. “Hello,” he answers waiting for the person on the other end to state their business with him. “Yes, we’ve been expecting your call all week.”

He nods his head to the gurgling voice on the other end. When he opens his mouth to speak, he is cut off by the person on the other end, leaving Tenga’s face looking more annoyed than when he first pick up the phone. As the person speaks though his expression loosens, becoming more thoughtful. 

“That is rather soon isn’t it?” Tenga glances at the time displayed on the elegant large clock in the living space. “Yes we would prefer to visit before the concert this evening.” Moving his face away from the phone and covering the mouthpiece with his fin, Tenga turns to WingDings. “Pack up your things WingDings.”

The request surprises WingDings a little, but he supposes if he’s going home he’ll need the things he’s received from this world. Nodding his head, WingDings darts away from the counter and looks for Shelly so she can help him pack. He doesn’t pack much, only his Lum Gums, his puzzles, a picture, and his nightlight.

“You can keep the clothes for the next child you take care of,” WingDings tells Shyren as she helps him.

‘Come here,’ she motions for WingDings to join her, which he does by sitting on her lap. Reaching behind her she brings out a homemade music CD and hands it to him. ‘This is for you.’

Eyes wide, WingDings smiles and hugs Shyren around her neck. “Thank you!”

“Thank you for being such a good boy,” she sings softly.

“They’re sending someone to pick us up,” Tenga says as he comes into the room. “Shelly can you take WingDings out to the lobby, we’ll meet you there.”

Shelly nods and gently encourages WingDings up with a touch on his shoulder. As he gets up WingDings glances at Tenga with brows curled in suspicion, but the fish man only stares back apathetically which gives the boy nothing to go off of.

‘Is something wrong?’ Shyren signs when WingDings is out of the room.

“I find it concerning that the RGD are the ones who suggested WingDings pack his things,” Tenga tells his employer, his friend. “They must plan on taking him in.”

‘Why?’ Shyren darts upright, concern and fear sparking in her eye. ‘Why would they do that?’

“They wouldn’t tell me when I asked,” Tenga says. “They only said that the Empress would explain when we arrived.”

‘I don’t think I can leave him with her,’ Shyren’s fingers snap swiftly, showing her distaste and anger at the idea.

“And you suggest we defy her and take him with us?” Tenga says softly. It is a practical statement, but the soft tone of his voice isn’t callus and shows Shyren that this isn’t something he is happy about either. “His way home is in the palace, it isn’t with us.”

Shyren deflates and nods her head, looking down at the floor. ‘You’re right,’ she signs. When she lifts her head there is no sign of her doubt, as she swims past Tenga resolutely. She will not give WingDings any reason to worry and will make the most of their goodbye.

The vehicle that meets them in front of the hotel is an official Royal Guard Department transport, colored in the royal red, with a black pinstripe along it’s side. Once inside, WingDings clutches his bag to his front as he leans against Shyren. The trip is a blur to WingDings, with the adults trying to distract him by asking questions or telling him the history of the palace. The structure was grown and carved from a special white coral that sparkles like diamonds when light hits it a certain way.

When they reach the palace they’re escorted by the guard past the sparkling magic shield, past the front gardens and up through long elegant corridors to the throne room at the very pinnacle of the palace. They wait outside two enormous red doors, a stark contrast to the pearl white of the walls and simplistic decor. While a guard with a red tail and in full armor goes in and announces their presence, WingDings clutches Shyren’s hand looking up at the imposing doors as if they are a foe he must defeat. He can feel the piece of his soul somewhere beneath his tail fin, but the feeling is muddled suggesting it’s deep underground.

“Empress Undyne the Undying will see you now,” the guard says floating aside and allowing them to pass into the grand room. The oval throne room is open to the outside elements, looking out onto the city through spiraling white arches. Beneath their tail fins, and in Shelly’s case feet, is a marble floor, polished as cleanly as a reflective mirror.

At the end of the room sits a proud Undyne, wearing pieces of black armor on her waist and shoulders, with flowing red cloth around her top and thighs. Her two red and yellow eyes watch them keenly with her yellow jagged teeth on full display with her attempts of a friendly grin.

When they reach the steps leading up to the throne where she sits, the adults bow their heads with WingDings hastily following their example when Shyren signs to him to show respect. He does as he’s told but only briefly looks down at the ground before tilting his eyes up to steal a glance at Undyne.

“Raise your heads,” Undyne bellows and the four quickly raise their heads. “First off congrats Shyren! You’re more popular than ever! I was kinda surprised you wanted to visit actually, being busy with all those concerts but I’m glad you did. Saved me the trouble of going to see you myself!” The empress laughs heartily. No one joins with her, but it doesn’t seem to matter to the empress and WingDings isn’t sure they’re suppose to laugh.

“You can speak,” Undyne says, a statement that puzzles WingDings since no one has made any motion for wanting to speak.

“Thank you Empress,” Shyren says softly. “I have been busy, but . . . you wanted to see me?”

“Ah yeah, been forever since we saw each other,” Undyne says. “Still fight the ivory’s when I can. . . You can speak.”

“You still play the piano?” Shyren asks.

“Heh, yeah . . . you know when I’m not busy being an awesome Empress,” she explains. “I cherish those moments, I cherish them so hard! Don’t you?”

“I do,” Shyren glances down at WingDings and squeezes his hand.

“But there was another reason I wanted to see you,” Undyne continues and points at WingDings. “You’ve been doing a great job helping that orphan kid. When Mister Arent called I looked into the kid and Oh My God what a mess of paper work that was! Not that I don’t appreciate the work those public service guy’s do, but it was a total mess! Pushing paper really is the worst.”

She laughs hard again and WingDings looks up at Tenga expecting the man to say something sarcastic, but the man remains silent and stoic.

“I was shocked when I found out he was W.D.’s kid,” Undyne continues to try and speak, doing a poor job of holding back her loud guffaw as she attempts to do so. “Who knew that old geezer had it in him.” She continues to laugh until it steadily teeters off and her features become contemplative. “He did a lot for me so . . . it got me thinking. . .”

“Your majesty . . .” Shyren attempts to speak, but is cut off when the empress raises her hand.

“No, no, I gotta say it, before it gets weird,” Undyne quickly states. “I loved that guy. He was like a dad to me, he was my dad, and here I’ve been busy doing my thing when his kid has been orphaned on his own for five years! What would he say if he saw that!? He’d give me a horrible lecture that’s what! About paying attention and not letting my passion distract me. Saying the kind of stuff that makes you feel things, feel things deep!” The empress’s eyes spark with magic and her fist comes crashing down on her stone throne.

It is no surprise to those present that there are cracks in the thrones arm rests.

“So seeing as I’m his closest in kin and with all the stuff W.D. did for me I thought I’d take in his whelp!” she hikes a thumb to her chest, grinning proudly down at them.

WingDings grips Shyren’s hand harder as he glares up at the empress. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t have anything to do with her. Only reason he is here in the first place is for the piece of his soul, not to be roped into Undyne’s plan to do right by the late W.D. Gaster.

“Not saying you haven’t done great Shyren, cause you have,” she continues. “But your busy traveling and singing.” Undyne rises from her seat and makes her way down the steps to be at their eye level. It’s only when she is directly in front of WingDings that he realizes how large she is. She’s at least two heads taller than Shelly if the empress were to stretch her tail out fully. “So who better to raise W.D.’s son than the one W.D. Gaster raised from a punk guppy into adulthood.”

Silence stretches the short space between them and even the bubbles cease to sizzle and pop as they rise from their hidden places.

“You can speak,” Undyne says, pulling herself straight and placing her arms firmly at her sides.

“Actually, WingDings says that W.D. Gaster wasn’t his father,” Shyren says. “He’s not . . .”

“Well of course the guppy wouldn’t know who his father was, he’s five and that’s when W.D. well . . . you know,” Undyne waves a hand in a circular motion, tossing several bubbles around aggressive. “So how would he know? Science doesn’t lie.”

“Yes, but he isn’t from this world,” Shyren presses on, her shoulders shaking and her hand pulling WingDings closer. “He’s just trying to get home.”

“Another world?” Undyne frowns, her eyes frozen as she thinks.

‘Y-yes,” Shyren presses.

“Let me guess he told you that?” Undyne is not amused, raising a brow at the boy as he glares up at her. “That’s impossible.”

“It sounds unbelievable, but it’s true,” Shyren says firmly.

“HA! He’s just making up stories Shyren,” Undyne’s laugh isn’t gleeful, instead it is short and curt. “And I can’t blame him, he’s been on his own for how long? And apparently he doesn’t remember stuff. He’s probably just coping. I was the same way when my parents passed. Aggravated little toddler.”

“Please Empress,” Shyren reaches forward, but doesn’t touch Undyne. She looks up at the empress, pleadingly, imploring her with her one visible eye. “He’s looking for a piece of his soul.”

“Huh, this have to do with his Soul Sickness?” Undyne asks, clearly confused. “Don’t worry Doctor Alphy’s is the best doctor around. Apparently she’s already treated him once, she’ll take good care of him.”

“I’m sure she is, but that isn’t what I’m talking about,” Shyren sighs.

“Don’t worry about it Shyren, I’ll take good care of him and help him find what he’s missing, I promise!” Undyne plants a fist on her hip and plants the other to her chest.

Slowly Shyren nods at the empress and brings WingDings up so he’s eye level with her. “She’s given her word WingDings,” the singer say, attempting to assure the boy despite her apprehension.

“Hold her to it,” Tenga mumbles.

“She’ll be able to take you where we cannot,” Shelly adds.

WingDings looks at all three of them before lowering his head and signing. ‘I don’t like her,’ he says shifting his body so Undyne can’t clearly see what he’s saying.

“What was that punk?” Undyne says, planting both hands on her hips and glaring down at the child.

“Give her a chance,” Shyren says. “I promised I would help you, we all did, and this is as far as we can take you.” She opens her arms and hugs WingDings. The boy glances at Undyne apprehensively, before returning the hug and clutching her tight. He hugs all of them, with each encouraging him and wishing him well.

Before they leave Shyren looks to Undyne and bows her head. “If you have the time I’d like to sing something before I leave,” she says.

“Really!? I’d love that,” she says, sinking to take a seat on the steps and leaning back on her arms. The empress motions for WingDings sit beside her, but he chooses to sit on the very last step away from her.

Shyren lifts her head and smiles at WingDings, giving the boy the impression that this song is for him not the empress. She sings the song she was working on when they first met two months ago. Her soft steady notes fill WingDings bones with warmth and a healthy amount of determination as well. He will return to his family and he will tell them all about Shyren and Tenga and Shelly and maybe he’ll even get to bring home some Lum Gums!

As she sings WingDings finds himself hoping the song will keeping going, so he can enjoy it for as long as possible. By the time she is finished, WingDings is crying and hugs Shyren again, who has bubbling tears in her own eyes.

Watching her leave hits the child hard and he clutches his bag of things tight as he sits on the step staring forward, unable to properly deal with his emotions as he watches them escorted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene was difficult to write. Not simply because writing is a challenge in itself, but because I didn’t want to say goodbye to Shyren. Of all the stories I’ve written thus far for this series, none of the parental figures are like Shyren.
> 
> Moreover, I want to warn you now that Undyne is not in top form in this story. Please don’t get mad, she’ll have her time to shine in another story, but for this one she is a hurt, powerful, egotistical, stubborn fish lady. And very very unprepared to take care of a young child.
> 
> Only one or two chapters to go till the end, I’ll know for sure once I’ve finished writing it.


	12. My Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day late, but here it is. Oh, look, it's Sans.

To Undyne’s credit she gives WingDings a solid minute before attempting to distract the child from what is now sadly missing in the grand ruby hall. “Are you done staring forward, we got things to do guppy,” Undyne says enthusiastically, earning a quick glare from said ‘guppy’ a term he does not appreciate.

For once WingDings is not smiling, an unnatural sight, but he just can’t seem to move his lips in that direction even with conscious effort. He wants to follow through, he wants the piece of his soul, but he didn’t like saying goodbye to Shyren. This is new to him. This sensation of realizing he won’t see someone again.

“I need to show you to your new room!” Undyne says shooting upright and lightly pushing him on his shoulder, encouraging him to move and get up. “It’s right across from my room and is the second best room in the palace.”

The empress is expecting a smile, but her charge isn’t giving her anything. Where as her movements are light and quick, his are as heavy as a sinking anchor, lost in his head. WingDings doesn’t say a word, picking up his bag robotically and swimming extremely slow.

“You can speak,” Undyne encourages him, assuming he isn’t speaking because she hasn’t given him permission to do so.

“I don’t want to,” WingDings tells her stopping completely thereby forcing her to take his hand and drag him down the hall when he moves too slowly for her taste.

“Suit yourself,” Undyne shrugs, pulling him down through the white and red glistening halls to his room. When she opens the door he’s shown a room that is as large as the hotel rooms he’s been staying in the last several months, as in the entire hotel suite. There is a sponge like bed for once, instead of a net hung on the wall, with several dressers made of coral and shells, along with chests, and a separate private room for grooming.

“More like a suite,” WingDings mumbles under his breath.

Undyne swims past him, attempting to take his bag from him as she passes so she can put it away. Immediately, WingDings clutches at the bag, tugging on it with all his strength, eyes flaring red. The empress doesn’t budge and when she swiftly becomes impatient she releases the bag. Unaware of her actions, only caring to have his bag returned, WingDings continues to tug even as she lets the bag go, causing him to spiral into one of the dressers made of coral. He hits the hard coral which is incredibly sharp and scratches his spine, but he refuses to cry out, simply sinking to the floor and glaring at Undyne with barred teeth.

“Hey, don’t give me that look, I was just trying to put your things away in the dresser,” Undyne opens one of the drawers, showing him her intentions.

Rather than ease up, WingDings continues to glare until finally looking down at the interesting floor, which is inlaid with colorful stones and shells making a swirling design. He easily gets distracted by the design, finding he’d rather look at the floor then Undyne who would have him believe all of this is his fault.

“Come on squirt, leave your stuff in here so I can give you a tour of your new home,” Undyne says in a clipped tone. Her smile is still present, but it is becoming strained with her eyes narrowing by the second.

Carefully WingDings moves to the drawer, but as he looks at it he can’t bring himself to put his precious bag away. He’s clutching it like a life line.

It really is all he had now.

Getting the hint, Undyne growls out a sigh and closes the drawer roughly. “You can put it away later,” she mumbles, looking briefly awkward. When she turns to leave the room she gets a good look at WingDings back, noticing the minor scratches he has there. Hissing under her breath, she gets a closer look as WingDings huddles around his bag.

“You hurt yourself already?” Undyne says in exasperation. She takes hold of his arm and drags him into the grooming room, pulling out some familiar ointment from the giant shell cabinet. When she moves the straps of his clothes away from the abrasion WingDings flinches, doing his best not to wince when she puts the paste on the small cuts, continuing to clutch his bag to his chest. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re hurting yourself already,” she says.

Furious, WingDings slaps her hand away and glares up at her. She’s the whole reason he was flung on the coral in the first place, it isn’t his fault he hurt himself. It’s her fault! Everything is her fault! All of this is her fault. Everything! Frustrated and still festering feelings of loss and lack of control WingDings speeds from the room and out into the hall, determined to get as far away from Undyne as he can.

“Hey! Get back here!” Undyne swims after him, but whenever she gets close to snagging him, he teleports several feet in front of her, making it impossible for her to nab him. “What is your deal!”

WingDings keeps swimming, feeling extremely smug and laughing at her expense every time she gets close to grabbing him, only to miss, slipping like a slippery fish. It’s all very self satisfying until she turns his soul green forcing him to stop abruptly, as if his soul is pinned by unseen bars. “Let me go!” he barks at her, hiding behind his bag and pouting at her.

“And where will you go punk?” Undyne shouts back at him.

“Away from you!” he beeps back, his words warbled and difficult to discern.

“Not happening,” she says coming up to him. “You’re my responsibility and I can’t be responsible if you’re running away from me.”

“But your mean!” he says.

“No I’m not,” she snaps back.

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not!”

“You are!”

“Am Not!”

“Sorry am I interrupting something?” a voice cuts in between the children’s banter.

The frustrated monsters turn towards the voice revealing an armored Sans. He’s wearing a dark blue fabric where there isn’t armor and the armor on his ribs, wrists, and tail are black, polished to a gleam that suggests more care than his slouched demeanor would have one believe.

“Shell-shocked to see me huh?” Sans grins, pushing his hands behind himself and leaning back smugly. “Shoal-d I try again later?”

Undyne grimaces at his word choice, but doesn’t comment on it. “No it’s fine,” she seethes, pulling her body straight. Showing control and confidence. “I wanted to introduce you to W. D.’s son anyway. WingDings this is Sans the Skeleton, head of the palace guard.”

“Hey squid,” Sans winks an eye at WingDings who is shocked enough by his older brothers appearance to be distracted from his argument with Undyne.

At least for a second.

The child snaps a stiff finger at Undyne, pointing at her without even looking in her direction. “She’s mean,” he declares to Sans, hoping his brother from another world can reprimand her and set things right.

Undyne’s face contorts into barely contained rage while Sans chuckles under his breath.

“Swimmer down there, what did sea do?” the man asks.

“She made me skin my back on coral,” WingDings explains, a grin tugging desperately at the corner of his thin lips, but he fights the urge to smile. “Then sea said it was my salt.”

“Hey you’re the one who was pulling on the bag,” Undyne reminds him, her eyes sparking with magic as she keeps him suspended in place, before glaring at the bag as if this is it’s fault.

“Because you tried to take it from me!” WingDings shouts back, he unintentionally fights against her hold on his soul and he actually manages to move a centimeter or two as he thrusts his head forward. “It’s my bag!” And it is precious to him.

“I gave it back,” Undyne leans closer to WingDings, their eyes locked in battle.

“Whale he was tugging on it?” Sans asks.

“Yes, WHILE he was tugging on it,” Undyne snaps her flaring eyes switching to Sans, but the guard is unfazed by the fury on full display.

“You should have been moray careful Undyne,” Sans replies calmly. “He’s you’re responsibility right?” Mimicking her words back so clearly causes the woman to tighten her fists, but she doesn’t snap at him.

Slowly her shoulders relax, her face becoming a sneer rather than an angry piece of modern art. Turning to the child Undyne releases his burning red soul and is rewarded when WingDings doesn’t immediately dart away, although he looks ready to restart their game if she moves to snatch him again. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” she says, catching him off guard. “It was an accident.”

“. . . Okay,” WingDings mumbles, unable to outright forgive her, but able to accept her apology because that’s what you’re suppose to do when someone apologizes.

“She isn’t your anemone,” Sans tells the young boy. “She just has a lot of intense seal-lings.”

“GRrraaahhh, I’m done with your puns! Fight me Sans!!” Undyne summons a spear and points it directly at him.

“Not right now,” Sans replies, floating their calmly as if there isn’t a spear pointed directly at his soul. “Did you need anything else Empress?” 

“Tell the guards to keep an eye out for WingDings,” Undyne says, twirling her spear around her arm before dismissing it in a spark of magic. “He also isn’t to leave the palace without my consent and without an escort.”

“Shore, consider it done,” Sans nods.

“Thanks Sans,” Undyne replies genuinely. “Now I’m going to take the little squirt around and then after lunch . . .” her grin intensifies. “We’ll have a battle. Nothing like a fight of grit and passion to bring people closer together.”

“If you sail so,” Sans shrugs.

Undyne sneers at Sans, but doesn’t say anything to him, instead addressing her small charge. “Sooner we get this over with the sooner we can eat.”

Since he is feeling rather hungry WingDings doesn’t fight her and swims behind her obediently. As she takes him through the palace she introduces him to several guards and servants. There is no way for him to remember them all, but the point is that the palace staff recognizes him first and foremost. Eventually his back doesn’t hurt as bad and he shifts his bag over his shoulder so he can carry it more comfortably. Undyne appears annoyed to see him so attached to the thing, but she doesn’t try to take it.

When they pass a long slowly descending hall on the ground floor of the palace, WingDings feels a tug on his soul. He stops at the entrance of the plain and rather bleak hallway, gazing down the sandy grey corridor stiffly. His eyes are wide with curiosity, but his body remains stiff and unmoving. A short distance in front of him Undyne slows to a stop and glances over her shoulder.

“Come on shrimp, after I take you to the guard house the tour will be over,” she says.

Looking down the hall one more time, WingDings bites his lower lip before following after Undyne. “What’s down that hall?” he asks.

“That’s leads down to the faculty rooms and infirmary,” Undyne replies. “No reason for you to go there except to see Doctor Alphys but I’ll introduce you to her at lunch.” They continue to the guard house where she introduces him to the stationed guards before passing the training grounds and returning to the dinning hall.

There is a feast waiting for them in the elaborate room, with it’s ribbons of red coiling around alabaster columns, but now that WingDings is here he isn’t feeling all that hungry. The food placed on the plate before him is green mush and chopped pieces of uncooked clam. Sagging forward on his white coral stool, WingDings chin drifts all the way down so his nose ridge is hitting the rim of his plate.

Noticing his glaring contest with his despicable food, one of the servants moves forward and removes the plate, surprising WingDings as she swims away with it. He wonders if he’s done something wrong and will go without lunch, but it isn’t long before she returns with a new plate. This time it has things he likes and steadily his appetite returns.

“Huh, those are the same foods the old man liked,” Undyne says with a mouthful of jelly. She is eating her meal with an energy one might expect from a warrior defending their life against a serpent, but no, Undyne is only eating. The sight isn’t alarming to WingDings, he’d be more surprised if she ate like a princess.

Ignoring her, WingDings continues with his meal, slowly picking at it and removing any piece of green he can’t identify. As he eats someone swims past his chair and takes a seat near Undyne. Glancing up, the child sees a familiar yellow monster, only instead of her being a lizard dinosaur type monster she is more like a salamander, with feathery red gills at her neck and webbing between her fingers and toes.

“He- Hello it’s - Hi, I’m Doctor Alphys,” the lizard says offering him a fidgety hand to shake before she sits.

“Hello,” WingDings shakes her hand in return, feeling a little better now that she’s here and he isn’t alone with Undyne and nameless servants. “I’m WingDings.”

“Yes, I’ve been - I know- I’ve heard a a-lot about you,” Alphys smiles awkwardly, before quickly turning away and shrilly whispering something to herself under her breath. WingDings can’t make it out, but it’s something about being incompetent, unable to speak to a child, and something about him being like W.D. Gaster.

“You aren’t, incom-incompetent,” WingDings grins proud that he knows the word thanks to Shelly and Tenga’s excessive favoritism towards the word when describing certain persons on the phone.

“Oh, Oh, that’s nice of, that’s nice of you to say,” Alphys turns back towards him, although she doesn’t look directly at him.

“Are you going to give me a check-up?” WingDings asks only asking because he knows she’d take him to the infirmary and thus closer to his soul.

“Yes, yes, we will . . . when it’s safe,” Alphys says, glancing over to Undyne.

“When it’s safe? Something happen?” Undyne asks.

“It isn’t ser- . . . I’ll tell you later,” Alphys thinks better of what she could say when she looks at the child. “Do . . do you have plans for this afternoon?”

“Oh yeah, the guppy and I will be having a little sparing match after lunch,” Undyne replies, riling WingDings frustrations once again.

“No, I don’t want to fight you,” WingDings declares.

“Yes, you will,” Undyne says.

“No I won’t,” WingDings stubbornly continues.

“You’re fighting me now,” Undyne smugly points out.

WingDings does not respond and refuses to look at either of them, moving his food around with his claw and closing himself off again. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t,” Alphys suggests softly when WingDings refuses to respond.

“What I’m not gunna hurt him,” Undyne says, challenging the shirking doctor.

“I know, I know, but he- he’s five,” Alphys stutters, but her gaze is focused. “Your . . . Your majesty, there are other things you can do.”

“But . . . I need him to like me,” Undyne babbles. Well there’s the truth of the matter right there. “And fighting always brings souls closer.”

“You’re better than this,” Alphys retains her eye contact just long enough for Undyne to back down. For reasons WingDings doesn’t understand the empress actually listens to the doctor, giving WingDings one more glare, before swimming out of one of the long pillared windows. Why use the door when you can use an opened window.

This is the second time she’s listened to the counsel of others.

“She listened to you,” WingDings says in awe, relaxing his shoulders as the desire to close up leaves him, that and he really didn’t have much hope of staying quiet for much longer.

“Of . . . of course she did,” Alphys sighs before turning her attention to her meal. “The empress isn’t a bad empress.”

WingDings is getting tired of people telling him that, but now that Undyne is gone he can eat in peace. “Excuses,” WingDings says earning a look of bafflement from Alphys.

“Wh-what?’ she asks.

“Excuses,” WingDings repeats louder, stuffing his face with a handful of food. “Trying to lessen blame,” he recites.

Alphys winces. “It’s a good thing . . . she isn’t here.”

Threat or not WingDings wouldn’t know it or care.

When they are finished Alphys takes WingDings out of the palace to Undyne who is practicing in the open arena of the guards practice grounds. Even as they swim closer Undyne doesn’t stop her routine, her magic spears dancing around her in precise patterns, hitting her targets with deadly force. The attacks are very much like the Undyne he knows, having watched her spar with his brother many many times.

They’re similar and yet so very different. Intense and passionate, but . . . this Undyne comes across as more desperate. And mean. Very very mean.

When Undyne is finished she takes a calming breath, her eyes closed as she focuses, before opening them and piercing WingDings with her gaze.

WingDings fights the urge to swim away, determined to get this over with and wonder if there really is any of the Undyne he knows behind that fierce yellow glare.

“I won’t force you to fight,” Undyne finally says instantly causing WingDings to relax. “There must be something else we can do.” Unknown to the little mer-skeleton Alphys signs to Undyne behind him, offering the empress helpful suggestion of things to do and encouraging the empress to ask WingDings what he wants to do.

Rolling her eyes, Undyne folds her bulging arms across her chest. “What would you like to do?” she asks, saying the words with such discomfort you’d think she was reciting the alphabet backwards.

“Can we play music,” WingDings asks brightly, wishing to listen to the compact music disk Shyren left him with.

“That’s a great idea!” Undyne says snatching the idea up as if it were a platter of chocolate. “There’s a piano in nearly every sitting room!” She darts forward grabbing WingDings wrist and dragging him behind her in excitement.

This isn’t what WingDings had in mind, but he has enjoyed playing the piano since arriving so he doesn’t correct her. They enter a large greenish room, a rather unexpected color to see in a palace of red and white. The walls are as smooth as the inside of a shell, with no hard corners, just smooth and rounded sweeping motions curving into elegant designs. Releasing his hand, Undyne sits at a modified grand piano, drifting down to sit comfortable on a cushioned bench.

Lifting the lid, Undyne cracks her fingers before grinning gleefully at the boy. Starting at one end of the piano the empress presses a finger hard at the low end before quickly dragging it across the keys to the higher notes. After that playful introduction she launches into a fast pace piece, her left hand moving nearly just as fast as her right as the notes and chords harmonize together, sometimes even clashing expertly without creating a jarring sound. It isn’t a piece WingDings is familiar with, but seeing Undyne play with such fervor easily reminds him of Undyne. The Undyne he knows.

“Fight those keys, fight them with intent and purpose,” Undyne grins, really getting into it. “This was a good idea guppy.”

WingDings only agrees with her, after all it was a good idea.

Soon after WingDings joins her. They play for a long time, the passion of their tunes echoing through the water and sending flurries of bubbles out from their hiding places when they get really into it. Even with all the mistake he makes she somehow helps it sound good. At some point Alphys disappears and over the next twenty minutes servants drop by discretely in the hall to watch and listen.

For a while the servants are content to watch, but eventually they grow anxious. Undyne is more aware of her servants unease than WingDings, but the empress isn’t willing to ruin the moment just because a few servants are uncomfortable.

None of the servants dare interrupt . . . except one.

“Hate to krill the mode, but we have a problem,” Sans interrupt at the door.

Undyne pounds the keys of the piano, making WingDings jump a little in surprise. The empress glares at her captain with a fierceness that is wasted on him. “It had better be a big problem.”

“It’s big sand cranky, our patient woke up, reefing havoc below deck” Sans states with such a commendable amount of chill you’d think the castle isn’t in any trouble at all.

“He WHAT!” Undyne is up in a spiral of bubbles, hastily swooping out into the hall and calling out last minute instructions. “Watch the squid.”

Sans bad puns rub off easy on the empress apparently.

As she speeds away, WingDings floats up to follow, but a servant encourages him to have a seat. “Would you like to read a book or draw?” the small cream monster asks WingDings nervously, which in turn makes WingDings feel nervous.

When WingDings shrinks back, the servant tries again. “I’m Loren,” they say. “What would you like to do while we wait?”

“I don’t know,” WingDings sinks slowly into one of the cushions, clutching the straps of his bag. As he sits there a prick of pain snaps inside his rib cage and he scratches at his sternum. “Can I go to my room?” he asks.

“You need to stay here for now, till it’s safe,” Loren says.

A persistent tug jerks his soul and WingDings looks at the door. Is he just scared or does it have to do with the piece of his soul. The tugging steadily died down the longer he’s been here at the palace, but the sensation has begun to make it’s presence known again.

“I don’t feel very good, can I go to the in- infirmary?” WingDings asks.

“That’s where the trouble is,” Loren confirms.

“Is Alphys okay?” WingDings is gripping the sponge like cushion, his eye lights darting around the room. The door has guards, but the window doesn’t and windows without glass might as well be doors.

“I’m sure the doctor is fine,” Loren senses the change in the boy, but they only twitch a little, their pin prick eyes squinting one at a time. The monster can tell WingDings is thinking something, but the adult left in charge doesn’t have many tools at their disposal when dealing with a five year old.

Like playing a game of red light green light, WingDings gauges when it’s a good time to dart and even though Loren is expecting trouble they can do little when the child swoops through the open window and vanishes magically from their sight.

WingDings teleports directly to where Undyne pointed out the infirmary and is immediately assailed by the presence of his missing piece.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Undyne is one of my favorite characters from Undertale so writing her at less than top form was a challenge, but no one is perfect. That’s something I need to work on more when writing these stories.
> 
> Looks like I’ve got one chapter left before the end. It will be very short and may not appear on Friday since I haven’t written it yet. Unless someone wants me to continue with the next story in the series which is already written.


	13. Please Take It

Despite the familiarity of the white hall he saw earlier that day WingDings uneasily drifts backwards as the bleak white hall fades to a dark grey, the sealed door barely seen in the haze. It doesn’t at all look inviting, despite the desperate pull of his soul towards that one locked barrier. WingDings soul gives a warm pulse and in answer the door, stretched a seemingly long distance away, sends a wave of shifting bubbles in answer as something pounds on the other side.

With a flick of his tail, WingDings startles himself when the thin brush of his bristled fin gently sweeps across the pristine floor. He feels silly and embarrassed when he realizes that it is only the floor, but he isn’t distracted long when another pulse shows from within his chest cavity, glowing brightly as another throb pushes from down the hall, this time followed by the loud groan and crack of bending metal and broken coral.

The young mer doesn’t want to be here anymore.

What is he suppose to do? This is why he’s here, isn’t it? To find the piece of his soul. This is why he had to say goodbye to Shyren and Tenga and Shelly. He wants them here with him now. They’d help him feel braver. But it’s just him. 

Look at him, frozen and one twitch away from swimming away like a silly guppy. 

He has to get the piece of his soul back.

He’s determined to get it back.

With this simple thought, WingDings clutches the strap of his bag and steadily swims forward, the brightness of his soul lighting the hall as the lights flicker in and out as the pounding on the other side of the door intensifies. Whatever is on the other side of this smooth white barrier, it is desperate to reach him. And he desperately wants what he’s missing.

The journey to the other end of the hall is a slow process, every flicker of light, every pound on the door, every little bubble released from it’s hiding place grabs at WingDings attention, giving him a reason to turn around and flee, but he presses on.

“WingDings wait!” a guard shouts from the far end of the hall.

WingDings doesn’t even hear the guard, solely focused on the sealed door. He is completely unaware of the thick wall of bones that sprouts through the floor, blocking the entrance to the hall where the guard’s shouts become a muffled hum.

Reaching out to touch the door, the pounding abruptly stops, just before WingDings fingers touch the cold surface. When his sharp fingers lightly touch the seam in the door, four large white claws stab and break through the seal. The lights give up their fight against the darkness in the hall, blinking out completely, but it’s hardly noticeable with the amount of light WingDings body is producing, the almost fluorescent like red painting the edges of his bones.

The once white hall is cast in an eerie shade of red, like the embers of a dying flame. A screeching cry of metal rattles WingDings bones as the doors are pried open, revealing an enormous skeletal form with darkness stretched out behind him.

Eyes the size of pin pricks, WingDings watches in fright and awe as a skull with cracks in his sockets and holes in his palms slumps forward. This skeleton is even larger than Undyne, his body of bones barely fitting comfortable within the broken doors, but the tiny skeleton doesn’t look at his body. WingDings gaze is locked onto the blank empty sockets of this enormous skeleton, before drifting down to the other monsters bare ribs, where a large white soul pulses painfully. Flickering erratically in silent agony.

And there, barely seen, is a sharp piece of bright light stabbing the edge of that large flickering soul.

“Please,” the skeleton begs in a heavy accent of the WingDings font. “Please take it.”

It is a font WingDings understands all too well. Perhaps he is the only one who can understand the tortured soul in front of him. The tiny skeleton reaches for the piece of his soul, no longer afraid as the piece wiggles and WingDings red soul drifts from behind his ribs preparing to accept the piece it is missing.

“WingDings! Get out of there!!!” Undyne cries from somewhere behind the crumbled scarred skeleton.

With a shutter the piece of WingDings soul flings free of the other skeleton, slipping out between the thick ribs and drifting calmly to the red soul glowing eagerly, as if greeting the piece like an old friend. The giant skeleton shivers in relief, slumping against the broken rim of what once was the door. A gentle glow of white returns to his dark scarred eye sockets and the lights flicker back to life. “Thank you child,” the skeleton sighs. “I’m glad you found what you were missing.”

“Your welcome,” WingDings says automatically, his eye light shifting nervously between the piece of his soul inches from it’s home and the man who has strangely thanked him. “Who are you?”

“WingDings!!!” Undyne comes darting from around the giant mer-skeleton, but before she can touch WingDings and move him away from the giant skeleton, her form freezes magically, highlighted in a blue glow.

Behind her a somewhat battered Sans floats as calmly as a slumbering clam. If not for the scuff on his skull and dents in armor you’d think he hadn’t endured anything of consequence.

“Undyne can you not see the child has their soul exposed, you could hurt them,” the giant skeleton reprimands the empress in a common dialect, leaving the woman staring with mouth open wide in shock. “Thank you Sans, I’m pleased to see you taking initiative.”

“That’s you’re fault,” Sans gives a lop sided grin as he continues to hold Undyne, although it appear no longer necessary based on her shocked expression.

Having heard coherent words from the one who raised her, the empress relaxes, although her face morphs into confused anger. “What the HELL is going on!?” she shouts with hurt, blinking more than is necessary. Her eyes are bloodshot and a little puffy for some reason.

“In due time,” the giant skeleton smiles sadly at Undyne until he gives WingDings his full attention again. “I am known as Gaster, adviser to the empress.”

“You’re more than that!” Undyne snaps, arms shaking stiffly at her sides. Sans chooses to release her, allowing the empress to float beside Gaster. She doesn’t touch him, but the empress is as close as she can get.

“But . . .” WingDings struggles to understand as he looks at the skeleton that has identified himself as a Gaster. “You’re suppose to be dead.”

“I was never dead, merely forced into a coma like state when the piece of your soul ripped a hole through time and space and attempted to merge with my soul,” Gaster explains. “Alphys has done what she could to keep me alive beneath the palace in secret from the kingdom.”

WingDings carefully repeats what Gaster has said, pulling it though his skull with as much care as he is able. “I’m sorry,” WingDings says, believing this the best response after learning someone has been struggling to stay alive. Did the piece of his soul do that much damage? Is it his fault? It isn’t fair if it is.

“I’m all right, that piece of your soul opened my eyes to many things,” Gaster’s eye lights are soft until his attention slides toward Undyne. The gaze is so sharp that the woman strangely looks away, as if she were a child caught in a lie or anticipating a reprimand. “You’re blame on those of the land was unfounded Empress and has led to unrest in our kingdom.”

“But I was only . . .” Undyne starts.

“Doing what you thought was right, but right for who?” Gaster interrupts her.

The empress looks about ready to fight Gaster, but she refrains when WingDings huddles around his still exposed soul.

She relaxes and remains silent as Gaster offers WingDings his hand. “I’m glad I got to meet you,” he tells the tiny skeleton.

“Me too,” WingDings accepts one claw and shakes it tentatively. His eye light bounce between the two powerful monsters, even sliding back to glance at the relaxing Sans. “Are you going to fix everything.”

“We are,” Gaster promises giving WingDings hand a gentle shake in response.

“Can you tell Shyren, Tenga, and Shelly I got the piece of my soul,” WingDings asks next. It’s only right they know and they’ll be so happy when everything is finally fixed.

“I will,” Gaster carefully moves his large clawed hand towards WingDings soul and gently encourages the soul and piece back behind the boy’s ribs. “Now I’m sure you miss your family.”

“I do,” WingDings admits, eye light growing wide at the idea of returning to his brothers.

“Rest now, you’re journey has only just begun,” Gaster pats WingDings tiny skull with one of his talons as a darkness clouds the child’s vision, erasing the world around him. “Think of home, you’ll find your way.”

Frightened of the sudden darkness, WingDings flinches and shuts his eyes. The sensation of floating, something he has become quite used to, becomes cold and heavy, before warmth and gravity takes it’s place. He thinks of his brothers, also of his favorite blanket of all things, but mostly his brothers. Their smiles, their voices, and their unconditional love.

If not for the heaviness of gravity WingDings might not have opened his eyes as he so easily slips between the folds of reality back to his home dimension. 

Where he happens to land on his brothers lap.

“WingDings!?” Papyrus quickly scoots back from his desk and the paper work he is attempting to finish at the embassy.

The owner of the shouted name, snaps his eyes open, quickly looking around the room until he’s looking up at his big brother. Smiling painfully wide, WingDings fights the annoying heaviness of gravity and leaps up to hug Papyrus on weak uncoordinated legs. His launching hug is wobbly and sloppy, but Papyrus catches him, supporting him and gladly returning the hug.

“I missed you!” WingDings declares, trying to hide his head into brothers neck and vibrating happily.

“I missed you too!” Papyrus happily repeats, patting the little skeletons skulls and completely unaware of the adventure his little brother has experienced. But he is an observant brother and it doesn’t take a second longer for his to notice the strange bag on WingDings back and the strips of crisscrossing cloth acting as his clothing. 

He did not dress him this morning, having left early for work, but he doubts Sans forgot pants.

Papyrus observes these changes, but doesn’t say anything, allowing the hug to linger and giving his little brother what he needs. It’s only when the sticky wet of the sea begins to seep into his bones that he speaks up. “Would you mind telling me why you are all wet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished it! Only about thirty more stories to go.
> 
> I’m very happy this installment in the series has an ending. An ending that isn’t quite as traumatizing for WingDings as the original ending I wrote. Since the conflicts of this undersea world didn’t revolve around WingDings I feel like I didn’t tie some things off as nicely as a writer ought. The answers are there in the few things Gaster says though, so I guess it’s passable.
> 
> Also thank you!
> 
> Thank you for reading this story. I really appreciate the Kudos and I kinda prefer Kudos over comments since I rather struggle with leaving comments myself. I’m glad there are even a handful of people out their who enjoy this rather strange story starring a five year old WingDings Gaster being taken in by Shyren under the sea. I don’t think there are any Undertale stories out there with this premise. Next story will appear on Friday and the first several chapters are all ready to go.


End file.
